Battle Royale, American Version, Season 23
by Riter544
Summary: Let the battle begin...and end...
1. Let the Battle Begin

(Welcome to the world of Battle Royale! In this game, students are forced to face their classmates in combat until only one is alive. Due to this mature content, this story has obviously been rated M since there will be cursing, gore, and adult situations. Enjoy the macabre, unpredictable, and exciting setting that is Battle Royale!)

"Greetings, class. My name is Mr. Smith. You may call me sir. Now I'm sure most of you are wondering just what you are doing in this classroom at the moment. Well, congratulations class, you have all been chosen to prove your patriotism and self-worth by participating in The Program."

Gasps. Tears slowly begin to form. Whimpers are heard. Eyes dart around the room.

"Now, now, class there's no reason to despair. You are all doing your country a great service by ridding it of those unworthy of life here. Take it upon yourselves to end the lives of those who would put shame to this wondrous country we live in. How you deem those unworthy, heh, well, that is up to you."

Mr. Smiths pauses for a moment, allowing the news to sink in. A wide smile slowly grows on his face as he watches fear gradually rising inside the young adults before him.

"That's right class, in this game it is kill or be killed. If you want to survive, you must kill the others around you. Only one survives. Will it be you?"

He leans down into the face of a petite girl in the front row. She avoids his gaze and slowly cries with a hand covering her face.

"I'm sorry, little miss. But with that kind of attitude you may not last very long out there."

He stands up and addresses the class again.

"You all have three days. After three days, if there is no determined winner…well, that has never happened." He smiles. "But in the event that it does, all remaining contestants are instantly killed, no winner. How do they die, you wonder? You all may have noticed that along with your normal clothing is a new necklace of sorts. This necklace allows us to monitor your progress from here, and given the correct signal, will explode, leaving you very much dead. If, after 24 hours, there has not been an elimination, all collars will detonate. So, if you had any thoughts of joining forces and refusing to fight, disregard them. You will fight. You will kill, if you wish to survive."

Mr. Smith walks over to a board positioned in front of the contestants and removes a white covering revealing a drawing of sorts. It appears to be completely square with several small drawings in various areas. The square is divided into several smaller squares and numbered starting with "1" in the topmost left corner and continuing along until it had numbered 64 total squares.

"We are here, in the center of the playing field. Square 28. Up north is a small urban district, which would extend further into the city and to the south is a beach that extends into the ocean. In between is a nice stretch of woods. I suggest you remain in the playing field at all times. Should you attempt to leave, your collar will instantly detonate. Forget about trying to run and hide further in the city or swimming to some other place or moving too far east or west in the woods. You will die. During the progress of the game certain areas will become danger zones. If you are in a danger zone when it becomes active, the necklace explodes, so make sure you pay attention to the announcements being made. Once the last of you leave this building, it and the block it is located in becomes a constant danger zone. So abandon all thoughts of 'taking down the system.' You will fight each other, not the government."

Mr. Smith looks out at all the faces and smiles with delight.

"Such a wonderful class." He smiles evilly, "By now I've usually had to take out one or two contestants before the game even starts. I can see you all understand the seriousness of the game. Well, then. Perhaps we should begin?"

Large duffel bags are wheeled into the room.

"Your personal items have been confiscated; all you will have are these bags. Inside each is a labeled map like the one drawn on the board, a compass, food, water, and a randomly selected weapon. Weapons range from guns, to knives, to blunt objects, and even some surprises tossed into the mix. Use them to the best of your ability as you do your country proud. And don't forget. Only ONE survives. Good luck my little warriors."

Battle Royale

American Version

Season 23

Contestants (last names withheld)

Boys ... Girls

Boy #1 – Joshua ... Girl #1 – Beth

Boy #2 – Derek ... Girl #2 – Sophie

Boy #3 – Carlos ... Girl #3 – Taryn

Boy #4 – Connor ... Girl #4 – Cassie

Boy #5 – Eric ... Girl #5 – Luna

Boy #6 – Minh ... Girl #6 – Terri

Boy #7 – Alex ... Girl #7 – Donna

Boy #8 – Ron ... Girl #8 – Samantha

Boy #9 – Larry ... Girl #9 – Molly

Boy #10 – Peter ... Girl #10 – Janelle

Boy #11 – Nick ... Girl #11 – Naomi

Boy #12 – TJ ... Girl #12 – Shaina

Boy #13 – Vince ... Girl #13 – Amy

Boy #14 – Sid ... Girl #14 – Jenna

Boy #15 – Corey ... Girl #15 – April

Boy #16 – Isaac ... Girl #16 – Lauren

Boy #17 – Salvador ... Girl #17 – Kim

Boy #18 – Justin ... Girl #18 – Ariana

Boy #19 – Nathan ... Girl #19 – Daisy

Boy #20 – Matt ... Girl #20 – Bonnie

Boy #21 – Paul ... Girl #21 – Genevive

Boy #22 – Jeff ... Girl #22 – Gloria

Boy #23 – Bruce ... Girl #23 – Debra

Boy #24 – Mitchell ... Girl #24 – Kara

Boy #25 – Marty ... Girl #25 – Leslie

Current danger zones: none

Pending danger zones: 28

(50) contestants remaining

Let the battle begin…

* * *


	2. The First Victim

Carlos (Boy #3) stumbled north. He gasped for breath as he slowed to a stop and looked around him. His body appeared tired, but one look at his eyes and it became quite obvious that he was aware and coherent.

"Hide…" He mumbled between breaths and glanced down at the map he had before him. He looked at it and determined that he was pretty close to the urban setting. Where there were buildings there were rooms. And the bigger the buildings the more rooms they had – which meant more hiding places. Carlos looked again through his bag for a weapon, but it appeared that his randomly chosen protection was a ream of paper. He sighed in frustration and continued on running north.

Every once in a while, Carlos would glance behind himself to make sure no one was following him. Luckily for him, his number had been three, which meant that a good deal of his classmates were probably still back at the school. They had not yet spread through the playing field. All Carlos could do was hope that none of the contestants preceding him had decided to head north as well.

Carlos broke through the line of trees and sawmany darkened buildings, ominously standing before him. Carlos almost wished they could speak and tell him of the possible dangers hiding amongst them. However, he started moving west slightly until he saw a largedilapidated building. He hoped that no one else would think to go there since it was so run down, and Carlos ran towards it to find refuge.

He climbed a few flights of stairs and found a room that faced the forest from which he had emerged earlier. Hedecided that this was the best place to hide as well as view other contestants apporaching his location. Carlos walked back to the door and closed it, locking the deadbolt into place. He returned to the center of the room and collapsed, finally letting his exhaustion take over along with the realization of what was happening to him.

"Dear God," he whispered, "I'm going to die."

* * *

Donna (Girl #7) stood by the water's edge. A cool breeze drifted by her, chilling her slightly. She clutched her assigned weapon, a hammer, in her left hand and pushed some blond hair behind her ear. She looked across the ocean and let her thoughts wander to her family, her friends, and her future. The Program was certainly not part of the plan she had made for herself.

_And here I was thinking that the last day of classes would be fun._

Donna returned in her mind to that morning as she frantically looked for something stylish to wear for her last day. She tried on countless pairs of jeans and numerous blouses, but she had finally decided on a frilly skirt and a tank top. She had tried on so many clothes that she was nearly late for school. No, she was just in time for the special assembly she had been invited to. The assembly that gathered all The Program contestants together before knocking them unconscious with gas.

A tear ran down Donna's cheek. She hadn't even said goodbye to her mother, not like her father would have cared. She wondered if she would ever see them again. Donna was so lost in thought she barely heard the person creeping up behind her. Donna spun around, her hammer raised in the air.

"Donna, wait!" the boy cried out. He held up his arm as shielding but did not hide his face.

"Paul," Donna sighed with relief as another tear streaked down her face. Paul (Boy #21) lowered his arm and smiled brightly at his girlfriend.

"Jeez, Donna," he exhaled, "You had me scared there for a minute." He walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her, pressing her head against his chest. "It's okay, honey. I'm here now."

Donna melted into his embrace as her ever-fleeting thoughts drifted to their relationship.

* * *

Donna reeled from the slap to her face and fell against some lockers.

"What did you say to me, bitch?" Eric (Boy #5) yelled as he reached out and grabbed a chunk of her blond hair. He pushed her up against the lockers and screamed at her from two inches away. Spit covered her face, but she didn't dare wipe it away.

"You belong to ME!" he yelled. Eric pulled Donna's head away from the lockers and then smashed her up against them again. Donna opened her eyes but avoided his gaze. There were so many students around, so many spectators. People who either decided to stop and watch or people trying to get into their lockers that Donna was now pinned up against. Why wouldn't anyone help her?

"Please," she cried, "Please, I-I'm sorry."

"What? I can't hear you!"

Donna tried to speak again, but her voice caught. No sound would come out, no matter how hard she tried to force it. All she could do was sob and pray that he left her alone.

"Hey, punk!"

Donna was shocked by the voice. It had not been Eric who spoke. No, this was someone else. She glanced over and saw him. Paul stood there frowning at Eric and gripping the handles of his backpack rather tightly.

"You got something to say?" Eric let go of Donna and slowly walked his way over to Paul. Donna crumpled to the floor in a deflated heap.

"Only this." Paul reeled back and landed a hard punch square into Eric's jaw. Eric was too shocked to react as Paul landed another swift punch to his stomach and then a swift kick to the groin. Eric grasped his throbbing manhood and fell to his knees before passing out from the pain. Paul stood over him for a second and then walked toward Donna, making sure to step on Eric's body in the process. Donna glanced up at him in awe as he stood before her. He flashed a glowing smile.

"Are you okay?" For some reason, those words seemed to mean much more than they were.

"Yeah, thank you." She blushed slightly, "I have the worst taste in boys, it seems. They all tend to be like him."

"You should be more careful." Flashing smile.

"You sure beat him up good."

"I did what I had to do." Paul shrugged, "Nothing more." Donna blushed again and stared down at the floor. "Say, do you want to go get something to eat later?"

Donna's face brightened as she looked him in the eyes again. "Yeah, I'd love to!"

* * *

Donna nudged her face against him, feeling much safer. She glanced out over the water again, the night sky reflecting off the water close to the horizon. Under normal circumstances, the scenario would have been incredibly romantic.

"Paul?"

"Yeah?"

"What are we gonna do?"

"What do you mean?"

"The Program. How will we survive?"

"We won't."

It was then that Donna noticed something didn't feel right. She felt something dripping down her leg and a sharp pain in her side. Paul hugged her close, but for some reason she felt she needed to break free. She wrestled herself away and saw a bloody hunting knife in Paul's hand. She glanced to her side and saw a deep slice in her tank top. A dark red stain was slowly making its way through her outfit.

"I will."

"Paul…no…" Donna whimpered. She dropped the hammer and gazed at him. Flashing smile.

_I have the worst taste in boys, it seems._

She took a few steps back at the approaching ocean as he slowly walked over to her.

_You should be more careful._

"Paul, what did you do?" Donna clutched her bleeding side.

"I did what I had to do." Paul shrugged. Flashing smile. "Nothing more."

"Paul, no, please, I-I love you!" Donna collapsed as her blood flowed freely into the salty ocean water.

"Sorry, honey," Paul stood in front of her. He reached out and grabbed a clump of her blond hair and pulled up. She cried out in pain. "Love comes at too high a price for The Program."

_They all tend to be like him._

Paul jabbed the knife into the side of Donna's throat and then quickly slid it out.

Flashing blade.

Flashing smile.

* * *

Paul (Boy #21) walked north into the woods. In one hand he held his blood stained hunting knife, in the other a hammer. Already he felt the advantage of two weapons while others most likely only had one. However both were close range weapons, and Paul would have really liked a gun of some kind.

_After all, it's not like I can get up close and personal with just anyone._

Paul sighed softly but continued on. His thoughts drifted to the scene that had just played out. He had liked Donna. But love? Hell, she was always a good lay but beyond that there never seemed to be much substance to her. It was as if she existed only for him and there was nothing else about her - no personality, no life of her own! Still, it hadn't been Paul's intention to find her first. In fact, she never would have known it was him at all if he hadn't been so noisy when sneaking up behind her. He was lucky that it hadn't been someone else who knew what the stakes were and knew how to play. Paul liked Donna, he really did. She was just not worth dying for.

Paul stepped around some protruding roots and continued forward. In the dark, the forest seemed to cast shadows every which way. Paul couldn't tell if any were moving or if they were his own. The full moon shined through the tops of the trees, but it was only a limited light source. There were too many dark corners, too many hiding spots. Too many places for another contestant to be waiting for him to walk by so that they could ambush him.

_Not everyone is as dumb as Donna to stand out in the open._

A sudden noise made Paul jump. He spun in a circle but could see nothing. Was there someone watching him? Were they waiting for him to move closer? Paul decided that moving any more at this point would be too dangerous. There were far too many people running around inside the square playing field, and it would only be a matter of time before one of them got the jump on him. He looked to his side and noticed that one of the trees had several thick branches. He walked over and started climbing until he was high enough up to see the layout around him. He still couldn't see anyone, but he was no longer alone and vulnerable on the ground. He sat back against the tree and glanced up at the moon through the leaves.

_Let the rest of them play for a little while. I've done my part for now._

* * *

Carlos found himself in the same place he had collapsed – right in the middle of the floor of the broken down apartment he was in. He sat up, practically wondering where he was, until reality came crashing upon him. He drew in a deep breath and instantly fear crept into his mind. How long had he been out for? Had anyone else found their way into his building? Was he alone? Carlos hyperventilated for a minute and then calmed down. The deadbolt was still in place, and anyone playing would have to get through that to get to him.

He wandered over to the duffel bag looking for some water when his giant ream of paper spilled out onto the floor. Cursing, he bent down and began to pick them up until his eyes began scanning the words on the papers. He picked one up and read aloud.

"Girl #7 – Donna --

Designated weapon: hammer

Pertinent Background: Subject has formal relations with Paul (ref. Boy #21). Subject appears socially shy and clings to those she dates. Subject has been beaten in the past (ref. patriarchal beatings/abusive relationships) and appears to be physically strong but mentally weak because of those episodes. Should subject survive, definite marketing appeal for both fashion and battered women organizations.

Conclusions: Most likely early elimination. Lacks aggressive nature and the sound mind to play game to its full potential."

Carlos opened his mouth in shock.

"They're…they're analyzing our abilities?" he said to no one. He reread Donna's file and glanced at the few pages following it –medical files, family tree, pages from her diary. Carlos fell to the ground again, but this time it wasn't from exhaustion or fear or hunger or anything else but pure shock.

"My weapon is knowledge?" Carlos felt as though he heard the statement before in some sort of cliché educational television program. He sighed and gathered all the papers together.

"Know thy enemy." He said aloud again to no one and started organizing the papers. He had a lot to read.

Danger zones: 28

Pending danger zones: none

(49) Contestants remaining


	3. Unwise Trust

Carlos (Boy #3) had finally organized the files into male and female piles. Seeing as how he had already read Donna's (Girl #7) file, he placed it aside and grabbed another girl file. He opened it up and began to read aloud.

"Girl #4 – Cassie --

Designated weapon: 3 hand grenades…"

* * *

Cassie sat silently on the edge of the forest, looking out at the buildings in front of her. She wanted to run into the dark alleyways and hide, but she had no guarantee that there was no one else there already. She looked down at her assigned weapon, three hand grenades, and sighed. In terms of weaponry, grenades were particularly handy as long distance, but once those three explosives were gone, Cassie was all but helpless.

She prepared to run into the urban setting when some soft noise hit her ears. It took her a moment to recognize the sound, but it finally came to her.

"Crying…" Cassie murmured out loud. She abandoned her thoughts of hiding and sought after the soft sobs. It took her a moment but she finally someone, a girl, leaning up against a tree trying her best to silence her cries. The girl reminded Cassie of her friend Taryn (Girl #3), but upon closer inspection Cassie saw that it was not her best friend crying in front of her.

"Hello?" Cassie called out. Gloria (Girl #22) immediately spun her head and opened her eyes wide with fear.

"No!" she screamed, "Get away from me! I don't want to die!"

"Relax," Cassie said smiling warmly, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"You're lying!" Gloria cried, "You want to kill me!"

"No, I don't want to kill anyone."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You're Gloria, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm Cassie."

"I know. You're in my physics class, right?"

"Yeah."

A moment of silence.

"I'm sorry I freaked out." Gloria sighed, "I'm just so scared. I-I don't want to be here!" Her eyes welled with tears. "And I thought the first person who found me would want to kill me, and I'd have no chance to survive because all I have is this." Gloria held up what looked like a piece of wood in the shape of a "Y" and rubber tubing connecting the two tops.

"A slingshot?" Cassie asked. She felt slightly better now that Gloria had calmed down. Cassie now had someone to be with, so that she wasn't completely alone anymore. Her mind raced to her other friends that were somewhere in the playing field. She would find them soon too! She didn't have to be alone anymore!

"Yeah, pretty useless, don't you think?" Gloria giggled a little. "What did you get?"

"Nothing good either." Cassie lied. She was worried that showing Gloria the grenades would scare her and Cassie didn't want risk her running away from fear.

"That's too bad." Gloria said her face becoming suddenly more composed and apathetic. "If you had something good we may have kept you around for longer."

Cassie was about to ask what she meant by "we" when she felt a searing hot pain in her chest. She glanced down to see a sword sticking out of her left breast. She gurgled slightly as Gloria walked forward and grabbed her duffel bag.

"What she got?" a male voice asked from behind her. Tears slid down Cassie's face as the sword was removed. Cassie fell to her knees. Isaac (Boy #16) walked over to Gloria and scanned the duffel bag. Gloria held up the three grenades with pride and she looked down at Cassie.

"Nothing good, huh?" Gloria giggled. Isaac spun and looked down at Cassie too. She clutched her chest and opened her mouth to plead for her life. But with one quick swing of his katana Isaac cut deep into Cassie's neck, ending her life.

"Have I ever told you how hot it makes me to see you kill someone?" Gloria asked rubbing a hand over her boyfriend's chest.

"Have I ever told you how hot it makes me to see you lie to other people?" Isaac responded. He pulled her close and kissed her fiercely. He reached down and slowly lifted up her shirt.

"Calm down." Gloria pushed his hand away, "We'll have plenty of time for sex after we get a big enough arsenal to protect ourselves." Gloria placed the three grenades into her duffel bag and pulled out her slingshot.

"Here you go, Cassie." Gloria tossed the slingshot at the corpse, "Thanks for the trade." And the deadly lovers disappeared into the night.

* * *

"Conclusion: Compassionate nature makes subject too willing to trust others. Early elimination assuming unforeseen alliances."

Carlos (Boy #3) placed Cassie's folder down and allowed a minute to take it all in. So far he had read two female files and both predictions had been that they were early eliminations. Wasn't there a girl that they did predict to do well? Carlos picked up another female folder, hoping this one to be different than the previous two. He began to read.

"Girl #18 – Ariana --

Designated weapon: bike chain…"

* * *

Ariana (Girl #18) came upon a group of houses in the wooded area, and she immediately began to analyze them. You'd never guess that Ariana was a smart girl. Her unbelievable beauty made others assume she was as dumb as a rock. However, Ariana always proved herself to be an intelligent human being, with a tight ass and sweet rack to boot.

Ariana always knew that The Program was a possibility. She could calculate the incredible odds that she would be chosen, but there was that possibility and Ariana would be ready if that small percentage became a reality – which it had. Ariana watched old episodes of The Program, noting common characteristics the winners possessed. She examined the behavior of the contestants and the types of weapons they were given. She had a relatively accurate list of all the possible weapons in The Program inside her head. She knew what it took to win, and she would not disappoint.

_Statistics show that from the start, most of the weak players look for sanctuary. Now in this group of houses, which would be the one picked as a hiding place?_

Ariana glanced at the houses in front of her, looking for signs of entry or possible movement inside the houses. She reached into her duffel bag and pulled out her bike chain, the weapon given to her. She sighed softly, knowing that she would need a better weapon to statistically succeed in The Program. Hopefully, she would find someone with a better weapon soon.

A sudden movement caught her eye in one of the houses. The figure had been small, either male or female. Ariana slowly moved to the house in which the shadow had moved and opened the door slowly with a creak. She placed the bike chain back in her bag, seeing as how it did her no good anyways.

"Hello?" she called into the house, making her presence known. "Is there anybody here?"

Silence answered her as she expected it would.

"Thank goodness." Ariana said to herself loudly enough for anyone else to hear her. She walked into the kitchen and dropped her duffel bag in the middle of the floor. She glanced around the kitchen for a possible weapon, but everything had been removed from the house. No, the only weapons in the playing field were the ones the students were given.

Ariana walked around the kitchen noisily to make her presence known and after inspecting it preceded to slowly ascend the stairs. Whoever was in the house was up there, and she intended to make her first kill and claim another weapon, hopefully one that trumped her present one.

She walked into the bedroom and saw that it was bare and turned around when a figure jumped at her. She shrieked and jump back away from the charge. A small figure stood before her, holding an ice pick in his hands. Corey (Boy #15) held the pick pointed at Ariana's face and tears streaming down his cheeks.

Ariana immediately turned on the water works, slowly backing away from him allowing fear to creep into her eyes.

"Please don't kill me!" she cried. Ariana fully doubted that this small boy could take her down. He did have the better weapon, but the look on his face clearly stated that he didn't have what it takes to kill her.

"I don't want to kill you." Corey stated, "So leave. Just get out of here. I won't hurt you, but you have to leave."

_No way. You're too easy a kill for me to leave here, and that ice pick is a lot better than my bike chain. We'll just see what happens when I try…_

"Please, no, it's too scary out there!" Ariana sobbed, "I'll die! I just know I will! Please, let me stay here! I won't hurt you! My bag's downstairs and it has my weapon in it. A bike chain! I can't hurt you, please don't make me leave!" Ariana hugged herself allowing her bosom line to fall slightly.

Corey noticed the apparent cleavage and blushed, looking away.

"No!" he repeated, "I…I won't let you."

Ariana broke down, crying so loud it nearly hurt. She leaned against the wall and slumped to the ground, giving Corey a full eye view of her panties, and a little of what it covered.

"Please, I'm begging you!"

He looked hesitant, and then left the room. Ariana watched the open doorway, wondering if she had let her prey escape. But soon, Corey returned with Ariana's duffel bag. He opened it and looked through it, finally standing holding a bike chain in his hand. He looked at it and then at Ariana.

"You'll…let me stay?" Ariana forced a huge smile and stood up again.

_Statistics show that people respond to emotions._

"You can stay." Corey replied. Ariana smiled and raced over to him, scaring him slightly. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him once on each cheek and then once on the lips, allowing that kiss to linger slightly. She stepped back and she could see, even in the dark, that Corey had turned bright red.

"We'll be a lot safer together." Corey smiled and avoided Ariana's gaze.

"Yeah," she smiled, "a lot safer."

Current danger zones: 28

Pending danger zones: none

(48) Contestants remaining


	4. Searching

Nathan (Boy #19) held his randomly assigned weapon in his hand – an ordinary deck of playing cards. He shuffled them absent-mindedly as he decided the best course of action. There was someone out there - someone he needed to find, someone he needed to protect. Horrific images of torture and murder floated through his mind. He shook them away.

_No. I will find you. Please, stay safe until I can be there to protect you._

Nathan pocketed the cards and glanced at the map. He had stayed primarily in the forest without much luck (although he hadn't run into anyone else, so maybe his luck was, in fact, good) and was now deciding whether to check the urban side or the beach side of the playing field. After careful consideration, Nathan decided that it would take less time to scour the beach than to go searching inside the many large buildings. He would check the beach first and then go search the city scope.

He headed south and eventually broke through the forest line. The night sky shone above him and the rushing ebb and flow of the water had an almost calming effect. The waves crashed on the shore and then receded flowing along with time itself. Nathan took a few caution steps out into the open and then moved on to walking the length of the beach. He kept his eyes open and mostly watched the forest for movement. He didn't need anyone catching him off-guard simply because they had the woods as cover. Nathan was so engrossed in watching the forest that he missed the object laying in front of him and he tripped over it getting a face full of sand.

Nathan lifted his head and spit out the grains of sand that had found their way into his mouth and nose. He wiped the sand away from his eyes and glanced at the object he had tripped over. Donna's (Girl #7) corpse lay at his feet. Nathan gasped and crawled away from her as if he expected her body to rise and end his life. He stared at her from the ground.

"They're…they're playing." He whispered, "Some are actually playing."

A snicker from behind him made Nathan jump. He spun around getting to his feet to see three people facing him. Eric (Boy #5), Ron (Boy #8), and Marty (Boy #25) glared at Nathan with evil smirks on their faces.

"Of course some of us are playing, dumbass." Eric sneered. Ron and Marty chuckled slightly.

"You," Nathan exhaled and pointed at Donna, "Did you do this to her?"

"Nope, wasn't us." Ron chimed in.

Nathan felt as though he should have been relieved to know that they didn't kill Donna, but he was still uneasy about the situation he was now in. They may not have killed Donna, but that didn't mean they wouldn't have. Or that they wouldn't kill him either.

"Yeah, we woulda fucked her first, then killed her." Marty laughed.

Nathan took a few steps back, nearly tripping over Donna again.

Eric held up some sort of tool that Nathan didn't recognize at first. "You know, Marty," Eric said, "I think we'll skip that first part with Nathan." He pulled some sort of trigger on the contraption he was holding and the thing recoiled. Nathan felt a jabbing twinge in his left shoulder that became more and more painful. Nathan looked over to see an iron nail protruding from his left shoulder. He cried out in pain as blood quickly spread through his shirt. Nathan looked back at the boys standing before him and saw three devilish smiles. He grabbed his duffel bag with his good arm.

"He's going for his weapon!" Ron shouted producing a box cutter from his back pocket. Eric fired his nail gun again, this time missing Nathan completely. Nathan swung his bag up into Eric's body causing him to stumble back into the other two boys. He took this slight hesitation as his one chance to escape and he took off sprinting for the forest. Eric fired his nail gun one last time, but again missed completely.

"Should we go get him, Eric?" Marty asked him.

"No." Eric replied with agitation, "We don't need to finish him off. He's left his duffel bag here. That bastard's got no food, no water, no map, and no weapon. He's as good as dead now anyways." The three boys chuckled together and made their way down the beach, looking for their next victim.

Nathan breathed heavily as he rushed through the forest. His left arm felt numb and blood pored from the wound. Summoning strength, he stopped, grasped the nail, and yanked it from his shoulder. He stifled a scream and sat down to rest. His eyes watered over. The pain was nearly unbearable, but nothing felt worse than his anguish at that moment.

_Will I be able to protect you now? Will I even get to see you again? Please, stay safe._

* * *

"How's the reading on that thing, Naomi?" April (Girl #15) asked, "Anyone nearby?"

"Yeah," Naomi (Girl #11) responded. She glanced down at the tiny hand-held instrument. Several blinking lights appeared all over the screen. "I'm picking up two people close by. It doesn't appear that they are together though."

"Do you think one of them is Cassie?" Taryn (Girl #3) asked, holding her assigned weapon, nun chucks, at the ready.

"Could be." Naomi replied.

"Or it could be someone else." Kim (Girl #17) said, "Someone who's playing."

"Or it could be Cassie." Naomi said.

"All I'm saying is that in terms of weaponry, we're not exactly fully equipped." Kim said, "I want to find Cassie too. But what if someone with a gun happens to find us? That neck collar detector you have is useful Naomi, but not when it comes to defending yourself. My boomerang and Taryn's nun chucks barely qualify as useful weapons. And April's duct tape? Completely useless."

"We all know that Kim." Naomi replied, "But this is Cassie we're talking about. She won't last long out here alone. We need to find her before it's too late."

Taryn drew in a long breath and then exhaled nearly shuddering. The thought of Cassie dead made her more depressed than frightened. Cassie was her best friend, and not knowing whether she was safe or not made Taryn that much more anxious to find her.

"Okay, everyone, we're approaching someone up ahead. Be on your guard, since we don't know who it is. And watch the surrounding area, there's someone else around here too." Naomi informed everyone as she led the group of females onward. A soft noise broke the silence and as they got nearer they recognized the sound. They came upon her as she sobbed her eyes out. Gloria (Girl #22) sat at the base of a tree crying into her hands. She looked up to see four faces staring down at her.

"So many of you!" was the first thing she said. And it appeared that she was more surprised that a group had found her than she was frightened of the big threat facing her. However, shock was soon replaced with fear as she cried out.

"No! Please don't kill me! I don't want to die!"

"Calm down." Taryn walked over to her. Gloria recoiled from her presence slightly, but Taryn smiled warmly. "Don't be afraid, we won't hurt you."

"You won't?" Gloria squeaked.

"No, you're safe with us." April spoke up.

"That's so kind of you." Gloria smiled.

_Four of them? Isaac can't take them all down at once! Who knows what kind of weapons they're holding. What should I do?_

"Would you like to join us?" April walked up next to Taryn.

"Join you?" Gloria asked.

"Safety in numbers." Taryn smiled.

"I don't know about this." Kim whispered to Naomi.

"We shouldn't just leave her out here to die." Naomi whispered back.

"But can we trust her?" Kim asked.

"Sure I'll join you!" Gloria beamed.

_What choice do I have? I can't turn them down; they'll know something is wrong. I'll just stick with them for now and wait for the right time to strike along with Isaac._

"All right!" Taryn said, "Soon we'll have an army of our own! As soon as we find Cassie, we can find a place as shelter."

"Cassie?" Gloria looked horrified.

"Yeah, Cassie's a good friend of ours." Kim explained looking Gloria square in the eye, "Have you seen her?"

"No." Gloria lied, "I know her from my physics class. I'd be able to recognize her if I saw her."

"I guess the search continues then." April sighed.

"And let's get moving," Naomi said glancing at her detecting device, "This thing says that there's someone in the nearby area. We don't need any surprise visitors."

"That thing tracks people?" Gloria asked surprised. The troupe of girls began moving as one.

"Yeah, it's what led us to you." Taryn said swinging her nun chucks in one hand.

"By the way," Kim glanced at Gloria, "What weapon were you designated with?"

Gloria smirked. "Grenades."

* * *

Isaac (Boy #16) watched the group of girls slowly move away with his girlfriend in tow. He was angry that Gloria had gone with them, but he understood that she had no other choice. This predicament, however, made things slightly more complicated. That collar device would inform the girls of his constant move behind them should he decide to track them. They'd realize they're being followed and that could mean bad news for him and Gloria. He'd have to steal the device or break it somehow, so that he could trail them without them knowing. Or maybe he wouldn't have to do anything at all. Gloria could probably destroy them all with one grenade and then use the device to find him later. In the meantime, he'd have a nice opportunity to go around on his own and collect some more weaponry for when he and Gloria finally met up. A part of him didn't like leaving Gloria alone in that group of girls, but he knew she could take care of herself.

He turned to leave but glanced back again one more time. He watched Gloria feed the girls lie after lie and he found his loins stirring a little. Isaac wondered if he should just unzip his pants and get his rocks off right then and there if only to remove the craving. However, he decided against it since there were still many other contestants traversing the playing field, and he didn't need anyone catching him with his pants down.

_I can wait. Waiting will make the sex that much better when I see Gloria again._

Isaac adjusted his pants to compensate for his blatant erection and walked off, katana in hand, into the dark forest looking for more prey.

Current danger zones: 28

Pending danger zones: none

(48) Contestants remaining


	5. Friends

"What is the chemical symbol for sodium?"

"Na."

"Argon?"

"Ar."

"Antimony?"

"Sb."

"Tungsten?"

"W."

"Ytterbium?"

"Yb."

"How many sonnets did Shakespeare write?"

"154."

"Recite one."

"Sonnet 23: As an unperfect actor on the stage

Who with his fear is put besides his part,

Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,

Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart.

So I, for fear of trust, forget to say

The perfect ceremony of love's rite,

And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,

O'ercharged with burden of mine own love's might.

O, let my books be then the eloquence

And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,

Who plead for love and look for recompense

More than that tongue that more hath more express'd.

O, learn to read what silent love hath writ:

To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit."

"When was President Lincoln assassinated?"

"April 14, 1865."

"What time?"

"Around 10:15 at night."

"What is the Japanese word for 'demon'?"

"Oni."

"In Dante's Inferno, how many circles or levels are there in hell?"

"Ten."

"Wrong! Dammit, Danielle there are only nine levels! Nine!"

"Father, my name's Ariana."

"Don't you think I know that, Danielle? Haven't you been listening to me after all this time? You're practically ten now! How many times to I have to tell you? Your body is disgusting and flawed! You're ugly! If you want to get anywhere in life, you must have a sharp mind. Your body will fade, get old, degenerate. Your mind will stay with you throughout all that. You must be intelligent! You must know all that there is to know if you truly wish to succeed!"

"I'm sorry father. I'll begin rereading the encyclopedia set."

"Very good, Danielle. I'll quiz you again in a few hours. If you get all the questions right, I'll give you dessert tonight."

"Thank you, father."

* * *

Ariana (Girl #18) sat in the corner of the room, glancing out the window.

"Nine levels of hell." She whispered.

"Did you say something, Ariana?" Corey (Boy #15) asked her from the other side of the room. His ice pick sat on the ground next to him, but he was no longer gripping it tensely. He had finally become comfortable with Ariana's presence, to some degree at least.

"No, Corey." She told him softly, "I guess I'm still a little scared."

"I know what you mean." He responded. Silence resumed.

_This is ridiculous! How am I supposed to kill him from over here? I've wasted enough time on this weakling. It's time to get a little drastic._

Ariana stood and slowly walked over to Corey. He tensed up a little as he watched her approach him, but she turned and sat down next to him, leaning against him slightly.

"It was so kind of you to let me stay with you." She cooed into his ear. Corey shifted a little, but he didn't move to grab his ice pick. No, he wasn't scared of Ariana anymore. He was intimidated by her advances.

"Isn't there some way, I can repay you?" She leaned in and kissed his neck very softly.

"Uh…Ari-Ariana?" he squeaked as she slid closer kissing his chin. She moved up and kissed him on the lips, and he awkwardly attempted to return it. She leaned over him more and kissed him harder, expertly opening his lips with her tongue. She reached down and took hold of his hand, slipping it under her shirt to her breast.

She moaned slightly and glanced down and saw the ice pick within her reach. Slowly she reached down and grabbed hold of the small cylinder with the pointed end. With one swift move she shoved it into the side of Corey's neck. He cried out and tried to push her away. Ariana gripped the ice pick and yanked it out only to stab it forward once again, this time into Corey's eye. He screamed in terror and raised both hands to protect his face. Blood flowed from his open wounds. Ariana stabbed him one last time in the throat and then finally stood wiping the excess blood from her clothes. Corey gurgled at her feet as Ariana gathered her things. She stood over the gurgling boy as he breathed his last.

_With each death, the probability of my survival increases._

She looked down at her top and skirt stained with Corey's blood.

_But no one will trust me if I'm covered in blood with no wounds._

She grabbed the ice pick and lifted her shirt slightly. With the tip she gave herself a long cut down her stomach. The cut wasn't deep enough to actually cause damage or hurt her, just enough to draw blood. Ariana winced from the new pain, but knew that it would be worth it. Her new weapon was better than her old bike chain, but there were certainly better weapons out there, and she'd need to get them one way or another. She exited the house, tossing her bike chain into the bushes. Statistically it did her absolutely no good, and the less she had to carry, the better.

_The nine levels of hell. I wonder which level The Program would be under._

* * *

Bruce (Boy #23) held his kitchen knife at the ready. He saw no one around him, but in the dark shadows of the trees any threat could be lying in wait. Not that that stopped him from continuing onward.

_My friends. All of them. I must find them._

Bruce had no intention of winning The Program. He was ready and willing to give up his life, so long as it meant his friends would be safe. But they were all away from him right then. He didn't care what happened to him, but he would protect his friends – of that he was sure. They meant more to him than they could know.

Bruce walked on until he eventually broke through the line of trees. The ocean stretched out before him and the cloudless night sky twinkled high above him. He was nearly caught up in the moment, but he regained himself and looked around him. He saw no one. He was relieved he hadn't run into anyone yet, but was disappointed he hadn't run into anyone he wanted to yet.

He decided to avoid walking out in the open and moved back to the trees, walking along the shoreline from the safe cover of the trees. And while he continued his search, his thoughts traced back to his memories of his greatest companions.

* * *

"I'm going to kill you!" Justin (Boy #18) laughed his head off and fired his pistol repeatedly.

"No! Stop! Get away!" Derek (Boy #2) cried out and dropped a hand grenade. Justin jumped aside and was weakened by the blast. A shot rang out as a trail of smoke flew across the playing field and struck Derek straight in the head. He collapsed to the ground in a pool of blood.

A deep voice rang out, simply stating, "Game."

"No fair, who stole my kill?" Justin asked placing down his game controller.

"Sorry." Jeff (Boy #22) smirked and leaned back in victory.

"All right, second place by only two kills!" Bruce smiled.

"I sucked ass that game. Look how many assists I got though!" Derek sighed as he flipped off the Halo video game. He reached out and grabbed a handful of potato chips.

"That's because Jeff likes to wait until everyone is weakened and then clean up the mess with a grenade and some skill shots." Genevive (Girl #21) said from the back of the room a soda in her hand, "Jeff wouldn't have won the game if you attacked him instead of each other."

"Finally you guys have stopped playing that game." Kara (Girl #24) said exasperated from the couch, "I didn't come over here to watch fifty games of Halo."

"Good thing we played a little before the girls showed up." Justin smiled. He took a sip of his Diet Coke.

"Anyways," Molly (Girl #9) chimed in, "I brought the movie '_Saw'_ because not everyone has seen it yet."

"Sweet! It's such an awesome movie!" Bruce said. He glanced over at Jeff, "Jeff, you'll like this movie. It's got you written all over it."

Jeff smiled but didn't say anything. That wasn't unusual for him, though. He was a quiet person - it was just who he was. However, once a person got to know him a little better, they learned that most times Jeff didn't need to say anything. He had other ways of communicating, if they knew what to look for.

"A scary movie?" Kara cried out, "I'm going to have nightmares tonight! Why can't we watch _'Clueless'_ or something?"

"No way!" Derek said, "We've had to watch chick flicks the last three times we've met for movies."

"Don't worry Kara," Genevive said sitting next to her on the couch, "I've seen this movie already. It's not that bad."

"It's not that good either." Justin interjected.

"I didn't hear any movie suggestions from you earlier." Molly remarked annoyed, "_'Saw'_ is the movie we're gonna watch tonight."

And as the movie began Bruce glanced around the room of his house, at all of his friends, and silently thanked whatever it was that ruled the universe that all these people existed and that they were all a part of his life.

* * *

Bruce stopped as his ears picked up the sound of movement, and plenty of it. He stopped and listened, hearing hushed voices and plenty of footsteps. His hopes rose slightly.

_Maybe they've all found each other already. Maybe they're here._

Bruce stopped and waited for the footsteps to come closer and was surprised to see a group of five girls stumble out of the woods and onto the beach. They all seemed huddled around one girl and staring down at the tiny screen she held. Suddenly she looked up right in Bruce's direction, and the rest followed suit. They started walking toward him, but Bruce thought it better if he approached them as well instead of hiding in the woods.

The girls froze as Bruce emerged from the woods. A few looked shocked but one jumped out in front holding a boomerang and staring at the kitchen knife in his hand.

"Don't worry," Bruce assured them, placing the knife in his pocket blade down, "I'm not playing."

"Good to know." The girl holding the device stated. However, the one in front didn't lower her boomerang. She stood at the ready, even though Bruce had no intention of attacking. Of course if he did, they didn't stand a chance. But there was no reason to tell them that.

"Hey, you're Bruce, right?" a girl Bruce recognized asked.

"Yeah, and you're April?" Bruce replied with a smile. April (Girl #15) smiled back.

"Yup, these are my friends." April named off Taryn (Girl #3), Naomi (Girl #11) was holding the blinking screen, and Kim (Girl #17) was the one who refused to let her guard down.

"And this is?"

"I'm Gloria." Gloria (Girl #22) introduced herself.

"Haven't we met before?" Bruce asked, "Your voice sounds familiar."

"No." Gloria replied quickly shaking off the memory. She suddenly felt very unsafe. She knew what this boy was capable of, and if he joined up with the group, things would become a lot more complicated. She'd never be able to take the group down if he was a part of it.

"I'm looking for my friends." Bruce told them solemnly, "All of my friends, they're all out here in the playing field." He rattled of their names to the group of females.

"I'm sorry, we haven't run into any of them." Naomi lied, "But if I were you, I'd check west in the wooded region. There appears to be plenty of people over there." She pointed to her neck collar detector.

"That thing tracks people?" Bruce asked surprised.

"It was how we found you." April chimed in.

"Maybe he should join up with us until he finds his friends?" Taryn suggested.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Kim snarled immediately.

"It's okay." Bruce backed away, "I'm not looking to intrude. Thanks for the suggestion to head west." He turned and hurried into the forest pulling out his compass.

_West. Hang on guys, I'm on my way._

The girls watched him go. Gloria sighed with relief. She looked with gratitude to Kim who had finally decided to calm down and put away her boomerang.

"He didn't have to go by himself." Taryn said, "He's looking for his friends, just like we are."

"We can't just trust everyone we run into." Kim replied sharply. Gloria smiled.

"We could have trusted him." April remarked, "I know him from when I took self-defense classes. I was in level one, but he was in five. I stayed in the class for only a couple weeks, but we would always end early and I'd go watch the better students. He was probably one of the best in the class. If he had wanted to attack us, he would have – and he would have beaten us too. We could have used his protection, not to mention his kitchen knife was a better weapon than anything we've got."

"Except for the grenades." Gloria interrupted.

"My point is that letting him go was a mistake." April said shooting a glare at Kim.

Kim returned the glare, "Just because you're willing to put your life in the hands of a stranger doesn't mean that I am. The fact that he didn't attack us proves nothing."

"Arguing isn't going to get us anywhere." Naomi remarked, "I suggest we get out of the open and continue our search."

"And you!" April turned to Naomi, "Lying to the poor guy! You and I ran into Genevive right before we found Taryn."

"I wasn't going to tell him that we found one of his friends, but decided not to allow her to join the group. None of us know Genevive that well and –"

"Don't give me that shit!" April yelled, "You're still pissed that Genevive beat you for class treasurer! You want her to die!"

"No I don't!" Naomi yelled back, "And besides, I told him to go west, where we had found her. He'll run into her. Now let's get going. All this yelling is going to draw unwanted attention." She started walking and Kim followed behind her. Gloria started after the other two.

"Come on, April." Taryn said taking her hand, "We'll be safe if we stay together." She followed the other girls leading April behind her. And even though she put a smile on Taryn's face, her eyes revealed a deep sadness. She wondered if Cassie was turned down safety from any other groups of people wandering around out there.

Current danger zones: 28

Pending danger zones: none

(47) Contestants remaining


	6. The Hand Holding the Scythe

Carlos (Boy #3) sat back inside his small apartment room. He had been reading for what seemed like hours and doing what he could to retain every small piece of info that was thrown at him. Some of the files had been interesting to read but truthfully, he had learned more than he ever wanted to know about some of his classmates. And every once in a while he'd get a file that disturbed him more than he'd like to admit. He knew Isaac (Boy #16) was a little crooked, but some of the things the file said he had committed… And of course there was the file on Marty (Boy #25) and his fetish for bleeding women… But the females added their share of unsettling pasts as well. Carlos always knew Ariana (Girl #18) was driven to succeed, but he never knew how her father had pushed her, or that she was concluded to be a major contender in this season of The Program… And everyone knew not to screw with Leslie (Girl #25) since she was known to be undeniably cold and bitchy, not to mention there was that black belt she earned, but was she really another major contender? There were certainly other people in the playing field that could fight as well as she could, and her designated weapon left a lot to be desired… And then there was the projected winner of The Program…

Carlos shivered slightly. He knew what someone being declared the winner of The Program meant. It meant that everyone else in the playing field had died. It meant that he had died.

He sighed deeply pushing that thought away from him. He looked down at the big pile of papers he had yet to read. He knew he still had plenty of things to learn, and most of it would be important. There was a group of people in The Program he knew from his neighborhood. They were dangerous, he had heard them battling in the streets from his apartment he lived in with his parents and little sister. The gang was notorious for being merciless and unforgiving, and had been aggressive in taking down any other gangs looking to claim territory in Carlos' neighborhood. The entire gang wasn't in the playing field at one time, since they seemed to grow exponentially in numbers. The ring leaders were out there – the head honcho and his main thugs. Carlos knew them all too well.

* * *

Carlos walked down the street toward his home. A small black box bounced around in his pocket and protruded out of his side looking some horrific hip tumor. He hummed to himself as he continued along. He smirked as he pictured his little sister's reaction when she opened up her birthday present and saw the beautiful diamond necklace. He had saved for months in order to buy it, and it would all be worth it to see her wear it with pride.

"Hey there." A voice stopped him. Carlos looked to his side and there they all stood, lurking in the darkness of the alley from the setting sun. The leader stepped out first, his voice resonating with arrogance.

"How's it going?" Salvador (Boy #17) smirked. The tall, strong, intimidating Sid (Boy #14) stepped up behind him glaring down at Carlos.

"I'm fine." Carlos responded with some hesitancy. Luna (Girl #5) smiled shyly and glanced at Carlos flirtatiously as she wrapped herself around Salvador's arm.

"That's good to hear." Salvador replied smiling widely.

Silence.

"Aren't you going to ask Salvador how he's doing?" TJ (Boy #12) demanded as he stood slightly behind Luna and folded his large meaty arms.

"How are you doing, Salvador?" Carlos asked quietly glancing around for a way to escape.

"I'm not so good, buddy." Salvador responded.

"Tell him why, Salvador." Alex (Boy #7) smirked as he took his place behind Salvador.

The final shadow emerged from the shadows standing next to Sid glancing up to his face.

"Don't try to scare the kid, Sid. We don't need him trying to run off just yet." Janelle (Girl #14) whispered and then followed suit staring Carlos down.

"I'm not doing so well because the pay for my rent's coming up and I don't have enough to pay it." Salvador said smoothly.

"That's too bad." Carlos turned to leave.

"You wouldn't happen to have anything to help me out, would you?" It wasn't Salvador's voice that stopped Carlos as it was Sid's massive hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry, I don't have any money on me."

"That's too bad." Salvador said his eyes falling on Carlos' pocket.

Carlos knew that it was futile to resist. They'd more than likely kill him just to know what was in his pocket never mind take it. Carlos sighed and pulled out the little black box.

"It's my little sister's birthday." He said handing over the tiny box.

"I'm sure that the best gift she could receive is knowing that she helped pay my rent this month." Salvador said without emotion. He reached out and grabbed the box, opening it up. He admired it for a second and then handed it over to Luna who still clung to his arm. She gasped and grabbed the box, tearing the necklace from it. She clasped it around her neck and admired the heart shaped diamond.

"Thanks so much, baby!" Luna cried out and kissed Salvador practically tearing off her own shirt right there.

Carlos looked away in defeat and attempted to leave.

"The necklace was nice, but it won't help me pay the rent."

"I don't have anything else. I spent all my money on that necklace. If you want that, go pawn it." Carlos spoke bitterly.

"Don't talk that way to Salvador!" TJ yelled.

"I gave you all I have, now leave me alone!" Carlos abandoned his fear and let his anger lash out, sweeping away Sid's hand from his shoulder. Carlos felt the need to run away, but he wouldn't give the gang the satisfaction of seeing his cowardice. There was a little scuffling of feet behind him and Carlos awaited the thrashing, but it never came. Instead, he heard Luna cry out again in gratitude to Salvador.

He glanced behind him and saw that everyone but Luna and Salvador glared at him as he continued to walk away. He knew that he had probably made a giant mistake, but at that moment he didn't care. All of that overtime and hard work, gone to some cheap gang slut. Carlos' anger burned inside him, but when he finally reached the apartment door he put on a cheerful smile and walked in wishing his little sister a happy birthday and giving her the only gift he could afford at that moment – a hug.

* * *

Carlos felt the same rage he had felt that same day rise up inside him again. He released the memory to calm himself down and leaned his head back in fatigue. The strain of the game was starting to wear on him, both the tense physical strain and the tough mental strain of all the files before him. He knew that it would safe to sleep in the apartment, since the deadbolt was still in place, and any form of attempted forced entry would instantly awake him. But something ate at him. His weapon was to know his classmates inside and out. He needed to get to that point in order for his weapon to come in handy at all. His eyes drooped for a moment and he realized that reading too much more would be a waste of effort, since he probably wouldn't remember it anyways. He decided to glance at one last file before heading off to sleep.

He picked one up and rolled his eyes at who it was.

"Boy # 7 – Alex --

Designated weapon: plastic bag…"

Carlos snickered at Alex's bad luck with weapon distribution and wondered where he was at the moment.

* * *

The three of them sat around in a circle, all facing each other. Alex (Boy #7) glanced at one girl in front of him and then to the other, finally returning his eyes to the first girl. She spoke.

"So we all agree then, that the three of us will act as a team?" Daisy (Girl #19) said holding her weapon, eye mace, in one hand and then softly tossing it to her other. "We will all work together to protect one another from attacks from those who are playing and should we all survive to the endgame, we all agree to fight to the end until one of us remains?"

"I'm in." Alex replied standing up.

_Stupid bitches. Like I'd actually risk my life to save yours? I'm just waiting for the right time to take you both out myself and take your weapons so I can join my gang later. Salvador's probably rounding everyone up as we sit here wasting time._

"Good." Daisy said and stood as well.

_I can't trust either of these two. I'll probably have to take Alex long before we even get to the endgame; he's the much bigger threat than her, even without a weapon. However, when he's blind as a bat from my eye mace, he'll be a lot easier to kill._

"I'm in also." Jenna (Girl #14) was the last to stand placing her switchblade into her back pocket.

_I've got the best weapon of all of us, that's going to make me the prime target from these two. There's no chance in hell I'd trust either of them to come to my rescue – they're more likely to help whoever is trying to kill me. No, once I meet up with Nick _(Boy #11) _later, he and I will leave these two behind - take them out if we have to._

The three contestants stood together, holding their weapons (or lack thereof in Alex's case) close to their bodies. None of them knew the other two particularly well, just well enough to know not to trust them. They were all together, whether they liked it or not, until one of the three found they're chance to get rid of the other two. They were so tense in watching each other, they never heard him coming.

He pounced out of the darkness, his hand scythe flashing with moonlight. It sunk deep into Alex's right shoulder and he cried out raising his arm instinctively in pain allowing the scythe to dig around, cutting some muscles and ligaments. The scythe was drawn out quickly and swung wide toward Daisy's hand that held out the eye mace ready to spray. The blade cut into her forearm, causing her to drop the can of mace as she screamed in pain.

"You bastard!" Alex cried out and lifted his left arm swinging out a left hook. The figure ducked quickly swinging up his blade into Alex's armpit rendering his other arm useless. He kicked Alex hard in the stomach and sent the boy sprawling. The boy spun around in time to see Jenna finally escape her shock and attempt to take off. He bent down quickly grabbing the can Daisy had dropped and caught up with Jenna before she had taken five steps. He sprayed straight into her eyes and she shrieked as she fell to the ground blinded.

The boy leapt back as Jenna reached into her back pocket and pulled out the switchblade flicking it out and swiping at the air madly trying to protect herself. A hard kick into his side sent to the boy sprawling to the floor with a grunt. He rolled on the ground and was on his feet again in an instant. Alex had recovered and, after placing that hard kick, was charging the attacker in pure rage. The boy lashed out with his scythe cutting deeply into Alex's muscular chest. Alex stumbled back in surprise of the new pain and the figure lunged again stabbing the scythe into Alex's thigh.

The figure turned his attention to Daisy, who still had not moved and was gripping her forearm. The boy leapt forward digging his weapon into Daisy's gut. A small twist and tug and entrails flew out of Daisy's stomach as the hand scythe was removed. She cried out in horrific agony falling to the forest floor.

He moved on to Jenna next, lopping of a few fingers of the hand that desperately held her switchblade. She shrieked again and did so again as the scythe made its way into her chest, puncturing one of her lungs. The boy removed the scythe and made to the last of the three. Alex lay nearly helpless on the forest floor. The figure bent down and slowly cut down Alex's sternum down into his stomach and finally ended by making an upwards thrust into Alex's groin.

At that point, the boy went over to collect the switchblade as all three ex-contestants writhed in pain, but still very much alive…for the time being. He moved to leave when Alex called out through his screams of pain.

"You!" he cried out, his eyes welling in tears. "You fucker!"

_So fast! It all happened so fast! I didn't even damage him! He was too quick, I never saw who it was!_

The figure stopped and turned to face Alex. His face was still hidden in shadow despite the moonlight reflecting from his now stained hand scythe. The figure placed the eye mace in his back pocket and slipped the switchblade into his sock.

"You're leaving?" Alex gasped as he dizzily tried to remain awake. The two girls cried softly close by, but he could not see them. He knew they too would not last much longer.

"You've killed us! Why not stay and finish the job?"

"Because." The boy said holding his scythe, "You have yet to feel my pain."

"What?" Alex slurred as he attempted to keep conscious despite the hurt it brought.

"This pain you're feeling right now, it's the pain I feel. It's the pain you and everyone else inflicted upon me. I'm not killing you, the pain is."

"Pain? I…I don't…understand."

"I know. But you will. Pain consumes everyone eventually. Suffer in its purity before you die."

"Who…who are you?" Alex heard one last thing before he lost consciousness, before he lost life.

"Me? I'm the future winner of The Program."

Current danger zones: 28

Pending danger zones: none

(44) Contestants remaining


	7. Announcements

Upon hearing his voice, frightened petite Beth (Girl #1) let out a terror filled gasp and jumped scanning the area for the intruder. She had no idea why Mr. Smith would have followed her out into the playing field, but it was most likely to torment her again like he had back in the classroom. He had told her that she wouldn't last very long out in the playing field. But she had survived for six hours without running into anybody. That was probably due to the fact that she had found a relatively good hiding place in the urban landscape. However, her fragile mind and fragile body knew that Mr. Smith would probably be right when she had her first encounter with another contestant. But she would prove him wrong if she had to. And her designated weapon certainly gave her more than a fighting chance…

Beth discovered that Mr. Smith was not actually near her, but rather that his voice was being projected throughout the playing field. She listened to the announcement as the sun began to rise.

* * *

"_Good morning, my little warriors. Six hours, six deaths. Not exactly record breaking, but a decent start nonetheless. Not to worry, I won't leave you all in suspense. It's time to announce the dead. Congratulations to the person who took the initiative and was able to remove Girl #7 - Donna from the competition. You have the first kill of the season - for this you should be proud. Moving on, our second contestant would be Girl #4 - Cassie."_

* * *

Taryn's (Girl #3) voice caught in her throat. She choked out a sob as her eyes watered over.

"Dammit." Kim (Girl #17) muttered glaring down at the ground. A solemn silence spread over the group of females as Gloria (Girl #22) put a shocked look on her face and smirked on the inside.

"We were too late to save her." Taryn cried softly.

"Our search is over." Naomi said wiping her eye discreetly, "It's time to go set up a base." None of them spoke all that much but instead moved together in search of sanctuary. They moved quietly so that the only noise that could be heard was Taryn's stifled sobs.

* * *

"_Next we have Boy #15 – Corey, Girl #14 - Jenna, Girl # 19 - Daisy, and finally Boy #7 - Alex. As all of you can plainly see, this is no joke. The Program is real. Now then, in the hopes of inspiring some of you into taking action, we have decided to add more than the standard issue of danger zones at this time. Now's the time to grab your pencils boys and girls. This is the information that really counts. Immediately following this announcement, blocks 15 and 41 become active. If you are in either one of those squares, I suggest you move quickly. In two hours, at 8 this morning, blocks 2 and 24 become danger zones. At 10, blocks 21 and 64 become danger zones. That is all for now. Another announcement will come at noon. If you're lucky, you'll hear my voice again. And don't forget - only one survives."_

* * *

Carlos (Boy #3) hurriedly wrote down all the above information. He referenced his map and sighed with relief as he saw that he didn't have to move from his spot, not yet at least. Fatigue rushed over him, since he hadn't gotten much sleep before the announcement woke him up. He decided to get some more rest, but first glanced at the two piles of folders in front of him – files he had read, and files he had not. Carlos reached out and made one more pile – files of those who had already died.

* * *

Paul (Boy #21) jumped down from the tree had been sleeping in. It had not been his intention to fall asleep and he cursed himself for being so careless. He prided himself on getting the first kill of The Program, but he was obviously not the only one playing. He was not the only one with more than one weapon. He decided to take the initiative and find some more prey. The sun was coming up; it would much easier to spot victims in the light.

* * *

Bruce (Boy #23) sighed with gratitude after writing down all the important information from the announcement.

_Good, they're all still alive. _

He continued onward squinting through the dense forest for signs of movement.

* * *

Ariana (Girl #18) stared down at the map, her brilliant mind moving faster than the speed of light. She had written down the danger zones and the potential danger zones along with their activation times. She then proceeded to calculate the probabilities of where contestants would be moving.

_The weak contestants will want to move as far away from the danger zones as possible._

She scribbled down some numbers and made a few mental notes. Ariana then placed the map back into her duffel bag and quietly made her way through the trees in search of other contestants and better weapons.

* * *

Leslie (Girl #25) consulted her map and compass again. By the looks of things, she had just missed getting her head blown off. She took a shuddering breath and then shook it off, telling herself that strong people don't get scared of close calls. She was fine, and that was all that mattered, it was time to move forward. Sitting in one place for too long was not safe, and she wanted to avoid contact with the other contestants for as long as possible. Her designated weapon, a salad fork did her no good, not that she particularly cared. Leslie's fists were all she really needed to protect herself, and she wouldn't prefer it any other way. She dug a hole with her shoe and dropped the fork in it covering it up afterwards. With a long deep breath Leslie moved on to find another place to rest and avoid the other contestants.

* * *

Salvador (Boy #17) looked at the other people around him.

"Okay, you all heard it. Alex is out. That means everyone else is here."

Janelle (Girl #10) stood a little closer to her boyfriend, Sid (Boy #14), than she normally would have, most likely because of the security she got from his big strong frame. TJ (Boy #12) stood off to the side, holding his taser in hand.

"Luna, we're going to need all the protection we can get." Salvador said turning to her, "You should let me carry the gun and you take my dagger."

"I don't know about that, Sal." Luna (Girl #5) said hesitantly. TJ shot her a glare but didn't say anything. If he had his way, both of the females in the group would have already been taken out. Janelle could barely put up a fight and Luna was completely useless. Why Salvador wanted to keep both around was beyond him. But TJ had learned before that Salvador always knew what he was doing. No one, not even Luna, could question his decisions.

"We all know I have the best aim of all of us, the gun will the most useful with me." Salvador said and he approached Luna. He would take the revolver from her from force if he needed to, everyone knew it. But most times, force was not needed. Salvador had learned that from his leadership position of the gang – the threat of force was just as useful as the force itself. He held out his dagger and Luna took hold of it, allowing the gun to be taken from her hands. And Luna wondered if she had just made the worst mistake of her life.

* * *

Nathan (Boy #19) allowed a sense of relief to wash over him. The name he had been listening for hadn't been spoken.

_Still alive. Good, continue to stay alive. Run if you need to. Just stay alive until I can find you._

Nathan gripped his bleeding shoulder and winced. The open wound hadn't stopped bleeding since the nail had been plunged into it, and Nathan was beginning to feel a little dizzy. He wasn't exactly sure what he had to do to stop the bleeding, and so he had hoped it would stop on its own. But that was not the case, and Nathan was beginning to feel weak. He didn't even bother to lift his head as people wandered into his midst.

"Oh, God." Lauren (Girl #16) whispered as she drifted over to Nathan, "Look, he's bleeding."

Nathan tiredly lifted his head. His eyes wandered from the girl who kneeled before him up to the boy who accompanied her.

"Can you do anything about it?" Larry (Boy #9) asked, wandering over next to Lauren. She reached one arm up and tugged and tugged until her sleeve ripped off. She reached out toward Nathan and tied it around his shoulder beneath his armpit. Nathan winced at the pressure.

"Don't worry, this should stop the steady flow of blood until it has time to scab over." Lauren said to Nathan grinning warmly, "All you need now is some rest."

Larry looked down at his girlfriend, and saw the characteristic in her that had drawn him to her in the first place - her kindness and genuine concern for all people. When he had gotten into that snowboarding accident, she had been volunteering at the hospital. She had visited him a few times, and instantly he had been attracted to her comforting smile. He remembered how she got in trouble because she had spent so much time by his bedside chatting instead of making her rounds. Larry saw how gifted Lauren was at nurturing, and he knew she would make a fine nurse someday, like she wanted.

"Nice job, Nurse Lauren." Larry teased as he grabbed hold of her hand. Lauren smiled and then glanced back one more time at Nathan. She would never play the game. She had decided long ago that her calling was helping people, not killing them. The weight was heavy on her shoulders, but she knewwhat was right. Unfortunately, Lauren was well aware that she would most likely die. She squeezed Larry's hand in her own. As long as he was with her, Lauren could face anything head on.

Nathan watched the couple leave. He tried to call out, to thank them. But instead he toppled over and plunged into unconsciousness so that his body could regenerate.

* * *

"You hear that?" Eric (Boy #5) yelled in frustration, "Six hours and we still haven't killed anyone! Even that bastard Nathan hasn't died yet!"

"It's okay, Eric," Ron (Boy #8) replied, "There's still plenty of time and plenty of victims."

"Yeah, plenty of female victims." Marty (Boy #25) grinned evilly.

"That doesn't matter. We're behind! And, we have some decent weapons on our side also! There's no way we shouldn't have at least ten kills on our own." Eric cried.

"It's not how many people we kill. It's who's alive at the end." Ron said with a sigh.

"You wanna win this like some sort of pussy?" Eric said with a snort, "I'm not going to sit back a let someone else kill everyone and then just take them out. That's the fag way of winning."

Ron didn't respond. There was no point talking with Eric at this point. He had never particularly liked Eric, but for some reason all the girls flocked to him. And since Ron was a big fan of pretty females, he had made friends with the jerk for the fringe benefits. Of course, Ron had to actually make some sacrifices for such an arrangement, which included being in Eric's company more than he would have liked and back him up when he needed it every once in a while. But Ron didn't mind, since trapping kids in their lockers was fun and Eric could be pretty funny – when he was completely drunk.

"Hey, Eric, we still haven't talked about what's gonna happen when it's just the three of us left." Marty mentioned.

"That's easy." Eric smiled, "We're going to have the best fight in the history of The Program. There's only one winner, and it will be one of us. And the fight that the three of us have is gonna go down in the history books as the most exciting, most intense, greatest fight ever."

Ron watched as Marty joined Eric in an excited smile. He sat back and smirked himself.

_Even if Eric did plan to keep us all around until the endgame, he'd keep all the best weapons for himself. And that's assuming he doesn't take us out first. No, I'm safe right now, as long as Eric only has that nail gun and horrible aim. But as soon as he gets something better, I'm going to be in more danger being in his company than if I wasn't._

* * *

The boy with the hand scythe finished writing all the important information down onto his map. He flipped it over and looked over the long list of names of contestants. Back in the classroom he had decided it best to know who was in the playing field at all times, and took the liberty of writing down all the contestants. Three names were already crossed off – the three whom he himself had killed. The boy sighed and crossed off the other three contestants he had not murdered. He was upset that it had not been he who had killed them, since they most likely had not experienced the necessary pain. He glanced at the long list of contestants still alive.

_So much suffering still to spread._

He looked out across the ocean from the beach and sighed as the sun continued to rise higher in the sky. It would much more difficult to sneak up on people in the light, even though it would be much easier to find them. Still, he was driven. Hatred, revenge, pain. They all forced him onward. Forced him to kill. Forced him to go north, to check the urban district…

Current danger zones: 15, 28, 41

Pending danger zones: 2, 21, 24, 64

(44) Contestants remaining


	8. Surprise Attacks

Leslie (Girl #25) stopped to rest again. She sat on the ground with her back against a tree trunk and pulled her duffel bag in close. She wasn't particularly tired, rather she was tired of walking in circles. With no set destination in sight other than survival, Leslie felt like she would wander aimlessly until The Program was over or until someone took her down. However, she doubted just anyone could kill her. That person would need the skill to weaken her, the speed to catch her, and the balls to finish her. She doubted that there were many contestants out there with the strength to match hers. Hell, she doubted that there were many people in general with equal strength. Strength was more than just physical prowess too – it was that along with mental maturity, psychological awareness, and emotional repression. Overall, strength was the ability to control oneself in every aspect, and Leslie prided herself on that ability.

A soft sound from nearby and the rushing wind caught Leslie by surprise and instantly her training kicked in. With a yell, Isaac (Boy #16) caught his prey by surprise and swung his katana at her neck. His sword cut deep into the wood bark. Isaac gazed in confusion at the bare base of the tree. He tugged his sword free and then heard a low cry.

"HAI!" Leslie appeared behind Isaac after circling the tree and swung her foot up catching Isaac in the chin. She pushed forward driving an elbow into his side and then brought her palm up hitting Isaac in the mouth. Another quick kick to the stomach this time sent Isaac sprawling forward. Leslie exhaled slowly and brought up her hands defensively.

"I'm not playing." She told him, "Leave me alone and I won't hurt you."

"Stupid bitch!" Isaac yelled standing up and wiping the blood away from his mouth, "I don't care if you're playing or not. You die now!"

Isaac swiped the sword at Leslie's chest, but she was already ducking, moving closer to his body. He swung low attempting to hit her crouching figure but Leslie launched up above the sharp blade and shoved her foot across his face. Isaac stumbled back and Leslie took the opportunity to land three or four quick punches into his gut before extending her fingers and thrusting them at his throat.

Isaac sputtered and stumbled back blindly swinging his sword catching Leslie off guard, and nearly cutting off her nose. Leslie decided to end this confrontation and brought her foot up hard catching Isaac in the groin. He cried out in severe pain and fell to the ground. Isaac's eyes watered over but after a few moments he stood once again.

"Still trying to kill me?" Leslie teased, "Do the smart thing. Walk away. I'm not going to kill you, but if you persist I'm just going to weaken you more and more and you'll be easy pickings for someone else."

Isaac glared at her with as much rage as he could muster and then hobbled off into the forest. Leslie exhaled slowly, allowing her body to calm down. It had taken that blind swing from Isaac's katana to remind Leslie that it wouldn't be all strength or skill that would determine what would happen. Sometimes luck would be a factor. And she had almost been damaged. She would not be so careless next time.

* * *

Derek (Boy #2) stumbled through the forest heading north. He was pretty far west, maybe in block 17 and was trying to move away from the current danger zones. It seemed that heading north into the urban district was the safest place to go, until another part of it went danger zone in about an hour and a half. Still, with the buildings there, it would be pretty easy to avoid human contact. Although, he really wished he could find his friends. He'd feel much safer if they were all near him, whether or not they could actually help protect him. Or vice versa. But he couldn't risk going out to look for them, not yet. Not when there were still so many contestants out there who could harm him.

He gripped his tire iron and sighed as he continued on. He checked his compass to make sure he wasn't moving too far west and out of bounds. The last thing he needed was wandering out of the playing field by accident. No, he wouldn't be taken out so easily. Still, he was no threat and probably seen as an easy kill. Not at all like his friend Bruce (Boy #23) who could fight ten guys at once and still win easily. He wished he had Bruce's company at that moment, not so much for the protection as it was for the company. Bruce had some way to make any of his friends feel important, like they mattered the world to him. And Derek had always welcomed that feeling. But of course, the protection would have been an added bonus. And Genevive (Girl #21) would have been good company too. She was smart, with as much street smarts to match her book smarts. She'd figure out a plan.

As he continued on, he picked up on a soft voice, coming from an easterly direction. Derek wanted to ignore it, but the thought entered his head that maybe one of his friends was injured. Despite his better judgment, Derek went to go investigate.

He saw her almost immediately since she was especially easy to spot. Her hair was disheveled and she panted deeply almost as if she couldn't breathe normally.

"Help…please, someone…help me…" she gasped as she tumbled to the ground. Derek gasped as her saw her clothes covered in blood. She was leaning up against a tree trunk but she slowly crumpled to the ground in fatigue and her duffel bag crumpled beside her.

"Hey, are you okay?" Derek asked as her approached her. She attempted to look in his face but found herself too weak to do so.

"He…he hurt me. Tried to rape me…to kill me."

"Who? Who did this to you?" Derek asked kneeling beside the injured girl. Ariana (Girl #18) looked up at him with grateful eyes. In a flash, she lunged forward jabbing her ice pick deep into Derek's chest, piercing his lung with the sharp point. Derek cried out and jumped back instinctively swinging his tire iron into the side of Ariana's head. It connected, sending Ariana sprawling onto the ground.

"Damn it!" Derek cried out pressing his free hand to his chest. It tightened with pain as the blood flowed freely, "Goddamn it!"

Ariana lunged at him again, aiming for his neck. Derek stepped back and swung down at Ariana's figure. She nimbly rolled out of the way. She was back on her feet in a crouched position, ready to strike at a moment's notice as she analyzed her opponent.

_He doesn't appear to be trained in any forms of martial arts from what I can tell from his clumsy attacks. However, I have no immediate knowledge of those disciplines either. I should be able to take him down in this duel, but at what cost? I can't get too injured this early in the game._

"Fine, you wanna play?" Derek roared allowing his anger take over, "You want to take my life? You're going to have to earn it!" He charged at her swinging at her crouching frame. She rolled out of the way again, this time extending her hand and cutting deep into Derek's side. He cried out again and Ariana resumed her crouching position. Derek raised the tire iron high above his head and charged Ariana again. This time, however, she held her ground waiting for Derek to draw close and then jumping up from her crouch ice pick first.

It sunk deep into Derek's chest, puncturing his heart through the ribs. He coughed and some blood dribbled from his mouth. Tears formed in his eyes as he felt his heart beating in his head.

"No…" he gurgled. As his life slowly left him, Derek thought of his friends, those who were still alive and at risk of dying. He looked down into the face of his killer as she plunged the ice pick deeper. He convulsed and an anger rose deep inside him.

_She may claim my life, but there's no way I'll let her take my friends too. I end her now._

Derek weakly rose the tire iron he still held and brought in down as hard as he could. He had aimed at her head, but instead hit her left arm, effectively cracking her ulna bone in the forearm. Ariana screamed in pain but that only drove her to push harder on the ice pick. Derek's vision slowly failed him and he hoped that his friends would know to stay away from Ariana, and that the damage done to her arm was enough to save them.

Ariana used her body mass to prevent the corpse from falling on top of her and she ripped out the ice pick with her good arm. Her left hand throbbed and still managed to feel numb. Cursing, she felt her damaged arm, disregarding the pain.

_Feels like a fracture. Damn, this is going to slow me down, lower my statistics. I can't afford any more duels like that. I need to hunt down a gun right away. I only need one good arm for a gun, and it'll stop these unnecessary battles._

She picked up the tire iron and tossed it into her bag. She didn't see what use it held, but no one ever knew when some item may become useful. Ariana slinked away from her newest kill, now slightly more selective in her killing.

* * *

Taryn sat on the floor in the second story of an apartment building in the city area. She felt uneasy with the stronghold that Naomi had suggest, since it was in block 10, which was just south of block 2 which went danger zone soon. And now matter how many times Naomi assured her that they were definitely in block 10, Taryn remained uneasy that once eight came around, they'd all suddenly be headless.

She glanced around at the group before her. Her group of friends, plus Gloria whom Taryn decided was trustworthy. She had become a lot more relaxed than when they had found her in the woods. But Taryn couldn't help feeling that Gloria had taken Cassie's place, that Cassie belonged there not Gloria. But Taryn shook that feeling away, there was no reason for her to blame Gloria for Cassie not being in the group.

Kim sat by the window looking out for any movement or people making their way into the building. Taryn felt that that wasn't necessary, since Naomi's neck collar detector would do a much better job at anticipating guests over sight alone. But no one told Kim to stop, as if she'd listen to them. Kim had always done what she thought was right, and watch out if you stood in her way. Kim was tough, and wouldn't hesitate to blacken your eye. She wasn't a gifted fighter, it was more her perseverance and rage that drove her. Kim would say, "I may lose the fight, but I'll make them wish they never started it." It made Taryn feel that Kim never thought she started any fights, which wasn't true, or that Kim was always right, which also wasn't true. But again, it's not like anyone would try and correct Kim on these points. Taryn saw Kim tense up and then relax, noting that Kim had suspected someone approaching, but it had probably turned out to be a squirrel.

Taryn looked over at Naomi, the girl who had taken charge during The Program. Naomi was a natural born leader, anyone could tell that much just from watching the way she worked with people. Naomi didn't hesitate to hand out orders and declare herself as the overseer of the project. Some people resented this fact about her, and some people admired her for it. In fact, Taryn couldn't remember a time when Naomi hadn't been involved in student politics at school, up until she lost the race to Genevive (Girl #21), of course.

That thought brought Taryn's attention over to April, who appeared to be attempting to ignore the other girls in the group. April was known to overreact at times, but Taryn couldn't help feeling that she was right in her arguments. There was no reason to let Bruce (Boy #23) go off on his own. And Taryn hadn't known that Naomi had run into other people before the group was organized. She wondered if Naomi had rejected other people before she met up with April.

"I didn't leave her out there to die, you know." Naomi's words broke the silence and everyone stared at her, even though she was talking to April. "At that time, I thought we were only looking for our friends. Maybe if we had Taryn and Kim along with us when we ran into Genevive, we would have had her join us, just like Gloria. It was still so early in the game, and I was so scared. I thought I was never going to see any of my friends again, I thought that there was someone going to kill me hiding behind every tree. I didn't want to trust just anyone. I wanted to trust you guys, the ones I know who won't betray me."

No one said anything, but they all could understand how Naomi had felt. Even with April's company, the early game was the torturous part. The shock of The Program, the instinctual fear, the terror of being thrust out into the playing field. Taryn had felt overwhelmed. And if she had had a more convenient weapon, she probably would have ended her life long ago.

"I didn't leave her to die." Naomi repeated and Taryn finally noticed the fatigue in Naomi's weary eyes. Taryn suspected that they all had similar eyes.

"I know." April replied simply and she stood up and walked over to Naomi wrapping her in a big hug, "I know you'd never allow someone to die."

Gloria glanced away from the girls and looked out a different window from Kim. The sisterly display had made her sick, and she needed some fresh air. She stared out into the landscape, not particularly focusing on anything. Her thoughts drifted to Isaac (Boy #16) and how she wished he was in this room with her instead of these four other girls. The sooner she was rid of them, the better. If only an opportune time would arise. She had suffered the company of these bitches for well over 3 hours, and they were starting to wear on her, especially Kim, who seemed to shoot her suspicious glares whenever possible. Gloria sighed with impatience. Her time would come, soon enough. Soon enough…

Current danger zones: 15, 28, 41

Pending danger zones: 2, 21, 24, 64

(43) Contestants remaining


	9. Crossfire

Genevive slowly walked through the dense forest. She held her machete at the ready in case anyone tried to attack her. Fear still coursed through her system, but Genevive felt its effects less. She didn't have such intense paranoia anymore that she couldn't move, couldn't speak. Genevive was now walking around and very prepared to do what she had to.

At first, Genevive had gone looking for her friends. But after a little while of searching with no success, she began to wonder why she'd look for them so soon. Even if they somehow all managed to find one another, what then? Sooner or later, they'd get attacked or time would run out and they'd all die. It was then that Genevive had decided on her course of action. The immediate threat was the neck collars. If she could remove those, then when she met with her friends, she could remove their collars and they could all escape together. The playing field was their prison, and they would need to escape it if they wanted to survive. And so Genevive's search continued. She found what she was looking for right at that moment.

Three dead bodies. They were cut and sliced open. Dried blood stained the forest floor. Genevive cringed at the new sight and nearly lost what little food she had in her system. However, she soon regained her composure and approached the bodies. She recognized them all, despite the modifications to their appearances. Alex (Boy #7), Jenna (Girl #14), and Daisy (Girl #19) lay dead on the ground. Genevive thought back to the announcement and realized it had never occurred to her that these three would have all died together. They barely knew each other. Genevive would have guessed that they took each other out, but she saw that they all had the same wounds – deep cut marks. She understood that they were all taken out by one person. A chill flew through her body. Someone was playing – playing hard.

Genevive sighed and crouched down next to Alex's corpse. She tried not to look at him too much and immediately went to work on the collars. She would take them apart and analyze them and find out what makes them work. Then, when she understood everything about them, she'd be able to disable them herself, and free herself and her friends from The Program. The neck collars were they key, and she'd find the right lock, even if it took her all three days of The Program. She was so enraptured with beginning her work, she didn't even notice the three bodies sneaking up behind her. She heard them too late.

Genevive grabbed the machete and spun to see her company.

"Freeze!" Eric (Boy #5) commanded aiming his nail gun at her. Ron (Boy #8) stood next to him holding his box cutter looking down at Genevive in wonder. Marty (Boy #25) stood to the other side and his face brightened greatly to see that his group had finally run across a female. Marty fingered the handcuffs in his pocket and let his fantasies carry him away for a moment.

"Hey guys, check it out." Eric smirked, his eyes wandering to Genevive's chest, "Looks like our no-kill streak is just about over."

* * *

Debra (Girl #23) sat in front of the fire allowing the warmth to cover her completely. She had made the fire earlier in the morning, making sure to get as far away from other people as she could so that they couldn't see the flames. She was in the top left of block 8 and had gone as far as she could without worry of the playing field boundaries, hoping that no one would venture so far north to look for other contestants. Debra had used the fire for a light source during the night as much to keep herself warm. It wasn't particularly cold out, but for some reason cold chills constantly passed through Debra's body, and the fire helped reduce those instances. Being in the urban portion of the playing field, it had been hard for Debra to find things to burn, but luckily old newspapers and trash burned easily. And since Debra's weapon had been a lighter, the fire practically made itself.

Debra sighed and stared into the flickering embers, trying to lose herself in them so as not to remember where she was and what was happening to her. A footstep broke Debra out of her trance and she instantly stood and ran to hide behind some trash cans in a nearby alley. She peered out behind them as she watched the contestant enter the area.

Vince (Boy #13) wandered to the fire looking around for anyone nearby. In his hand he held his designated weapon, a bottle of liquid. The frightened look on his face made Debra think that perhaps he had no intention of hurting her, but Debra remained in hiding, just to be sure.

Vince crouched down by the fire and held his bottle closer to it. In the dark, it had been impossible to read the label, and Vince's bad eyes didn't help matters. He had glasses, but they were confiscated along with the rest of his items. Wandering around half blind in the dead of night had terrified Vince beyond reason, and his fear still had a major grip on his psyche. But he had found some fire, which gave him some comfort, along with the added light he needed to read the bottle.

"Ether," he read out loud, "Irritant and highly flammable." Vince opened the top and sniffed the contents, retracting his face in disgust. He glanced back at the label to read more, when a hand rested on his shoulder. Vince screeched in fright and flung the bottle of ether at the figure behind him.

Sophie (Girl #2) cried out in agony as the ether doused her completely, dripping into her eyes and making them burn painfully. Immediately, Sophie saw the error in attempting to contact Vince. Sneaking up on someone was not the correct way to gain companionship, nor to win their trust.

"Wait, stop!" Sophie cried out, "I don't want to hurt you! I'm not playing!" But Vince took one look at the designated weapon Sophie was holding, a crossbow, and he took off running in the first direction he saw. Sophie tried to open her eyes, but they burned unmercifully and she cried out again, dropping her crossbow and duffel bag full of arrows. She took a few steps forward and unfortunately stepped into the fire.

The flames immediately erupted all over Sophie, igniting the ether she was covered in. She cried in pain and ran around blindly, trying to put out the flames. From behind the trash cans, Debra saw the horrific sight and smelled Sophie's burning flesh. She vomited up some of the food she had eaten. She couldn't take the sight anymore. She stepped out from behind the barrels of garbage and walked over to the crossbow. Sophie now lay on the ground, her body burned beyond recognition and on the verge of death. Debra didn't know Sophie very well, but no one deserved to suffer the way she was. Debra loaded an arrow and stood over Sophie, ready to end her suffering, when a hammer bore itself down into the back of Debra's head.

Debra fell on top of Sophie completely unconscious. Paul (Boy #21) stood over her placing the hammer into his back pocket. He picked up the crossbow, aimed down, and pulled the trigger, sending the arrow through the back of Debra's head and out her forehead. Blood poured from the wound.

"Help me," Sophie whimpered on the ground, her body singed and shivering with shock. Her eyes attempted to water over, but the ether had dried them out. Sophie couldn't even cry as her life was being burned out of her body. She wished she had said something to Vince when she had first spotted him by the fire. But she was worried that he'd run if he saw her, and Sophie didn't want to be alone anymore. So she had decided to come into close range with Vince, to show him that she wouldn't attack him. She hadn't even guessed he'd attack her. Sophie cried tearlessly as her body convulsed in pain, "Help me."

"Don't worry, honey," Paul whispered into her burned ears, "It'll all be over soon." He stood and loaded another arrow. He stood over the horrifically burned girl aiming the crossbow at her temple. He flashed a smile as he pulled the trigger.

* * *

Vince (Boy #13) gasped for breath as he stopped running. He grabbed his backpack and pulled out his compass and map to determine his position. Fear still gripped his thoughts and he needed to get away from the other people close by him. He squinted at the map, finding it difficult to read. He wished he had some sort of glasses handy. He looked around him for any sight of landmark that he could relate to the map, but found none. He guessed he was still in block 8, which meant that heading west and south were his best bets. He squinted down into his compass, trying to read the small letters.

_This was a lot easier when there weren't danger zones I could accidentally walk into. I shouldn't have come so close to the perimeter, looking for a place to hide so far away was a bad idea. I should have just stayed where I was._

Vince sighed with frustration and put his map and compass back into his bag. He was angry that he had gotten so turned around when he had ran away, and decided to find a nearby building as his hiding place for the time being. Ahead of him, Vince saw a particularly big office complex and decided that it would be the best place to hide.

He took three steps and walked out of the playing field. With two quick beeps his neck collar activated and exploded. And before Vince had even known what had happened, he was dead.

* * *

"Why not hand over that nice machete you got there?" Eric (Boy #5) smirked, "And while your at it, take off your top too."

"What?" Genevive (Girl # 21) gasped.

"No arguments or you die right now." Eric aimed the nail gun at her head.

"Look, I'm trying to figure these neck collars out." Genevive told them, "I want to see if I can somehow remove them without making them explode. That way, we can all escape, without having to take part in The Program."

"Escape?" Ron asked surprised, "You really mean it?"

"I hope so. These collars are what keep us here, without them the government has no power over us. We can leave. We can all live."

"I don't care if you can remove these things now." Eric replied with anger, "I'm not taking the pussy way out of this! We play the way we're supposed to. Now, if you don't take off your top-"

Eric stopped, no longer able to say any words he wished. Ron's box cutter had somehow found its way to Eric's throat, and some way managed to slit it. Eric's hands went to his throat as blood gushed down his body. He looked over at Ron who held the bloody weapon and he raised the nail gun to Ron's forehead. Ron looked surprised, as if he hadn't known Eric would be able to retaliate after the deathblow. However, a quick swing from Genevive and her machete finished the job Ron's box cutter started - severing Eric's head.

Genevive looked down at the corpse and then over to its two former companions, Ron and Marty (Boy #25). Ron bent down and picked up the nail gun, tossing Genevive his box cutter.

"That'll be a lot easier to use than your machete." Ron said, "I have no intention of staying here if I don't have to. Get to work on those neck collars, and Marty and I will give you the protection you need to analyze them."

Genevive seemed a little hesitant, but she picked up the box cutter and softly murmured, "Thank you." before getting down to business. Marty looked down at Eric's headless body and then over to Ron who watched Genevive as she began her work and then he glanced down at Genevive, his eyes narrowing in on her small behind. His hands moved into his pockets, gently caressing the handcuffs he still had there. He wasn't upset that Eric was dead, no Marty was angry that Genevive hadn't taken her shirt off. He had been so happy that the three of them had finally run across a female, and now Eric was dead and they were letting her stay fully clothed?

Marty craved her. He needed to feel her body against his. He needed to taste and smell her blood all around him. He needed to hear her cry out. Marty nearly got an erection sitting there imaging all the things he wanted to do to Genevive. But there was still the problem of Ron. Ron, who now held the nail gun. Ron wouldn't let any harm come to Genevive so long as she could work for his salvation. But Ron would have to leave to go to the bathroom at some point. And if his cravings became too strong, Marty could take Ron out, so long as it meant that he got to partake of Genevive. But he could wait for now. Marty didn't need her right away. Who knows, if she actually found a way to remove the collars, he could always wait for her to release him of it, and then take her afterwards.

In any case, Marty could wait. He could wait…

Current danger zones: 15, 28, 41

Pending danger zones: 2, 21, 24, 64

(39) Contestants remaining


	10. Dealers of Cards and Drugs

Molly (Girl #9) played with her designated weapon: a yo-yo. The strong fit snuggly around her finger and she subconsciously tossed the yo-yo down and then flicked her wrist, sending it spinning back into her hand. Her breaths came slowly as if she was in some contemplative meditative state, but where her body was inactive, her mind raced at light speed.

_People will be racing away from the danger zones. The surrounding areas are probably the safest places to be and avoid other people. But I'll never find my friends if I avoid everyone. What should I do?_

Molly spun the yo-yo around completing an "around the world" before it returned to her hand. She dropped it again, allowing to spin on its own for a few seconds before snapping her wrist and once again holding the toy.

_I'll never find my friends if I'm hiding. As dangerous as it is, I have to stay in the open so that I can find them, and they can find me. Hopefully before anyone else can._

Right on cue, Matt (Boy #20) appeared out of the forest and noticed Molly's presence. Both of them squared off against each other, neither moving nor breaking away from the stare.

* * *

Isaac (Boy #16) had found Molly nearly ten minutes ago. He saw her playing with her yo-yo, which he guessed to be her weapon. But instead of rushing head first into an attack, Isaac had decided to wait for an opportune time to strike with his katana. His testicles still throbbed from the last confrontation he had had, and he wouldn't make the mistake of underestimating his prey again. Molly didn't appear like she could put up much of a fight, but the stakes were too high for Isaac to continue to be reckless.

Molly didn't appear to be moving any time soon, so Isaac made himself comfortable and lost himself in the thought of Gloria for the time being.

* * *

He had first noticed her when he had skipped class to go smoke outside the school grounds. She was there in his usual spot, taking a long drag from a joint. He frowned, about to tell this girl to get out of his usual spot. But before he could cuss her out, she looked up at him and extended her pot to him. Isaac was never one to pass up free drugs and instead sat next to this girl he had never met before and shared her weed. It was soon done, however, and Isaac pulled out a J of his own and the two smoked that too.

"You feel like buying some weed?" she asked him.

"Thanks, but I got plenty." He replied, "Plenty to sell and plenty to use myself."

"You're a seller too?" she droned feeling exceptionally mellow, "Guess that makes us rivals."

And she stood up to go. He looked up at her, and maybe it was the drugs in his system, but he couldn't deny that she was hot.

"What's your name?" Isaac asked her.

"Gloria." She responded without turning around.

"Listen, Gloria, do you want to get together some time, smoke some more weed or something?" It didn't come out as suave as it had in his head, but Isaac was pleased with himself when the girl turned and looked down at him with a smile. She threw off her top and stood over him.

"Lose the pants."

And that's how it had started. Slowly they had combined their drug assets and had made a decent profit, with plenty for them to use when they felt like it. Isaac was primarily a pothead, but Gloria had introduced him to cocaine and some hallucinogens that had taken him to heaven, to hell, and then back to earth. The money continued to flow into their possession and the drugs continued to flow into their body systems. Neither had been happier.

* * *

"Please, please, don't kill me!" the sniveling boy was on his knees before Isaac and Gloria in a back alley of their city.

"Now, why would we kill you?" Gloria cooed as she approached him with a switchblade in her hand, "All you've done is lose over a thousand dollars worth of drugs."

"But I was robbed! I came back and the drugs were gone!"

"And that's very unfortunate for you." She shot back coldly, "But all can be forgiven if you pay for the drugs that you lost."

"But I don't have that much money!"

Isaac cocked the gun he was holding and aimed straight at the boy's head. The boy cringed in fear.

"I…I have three hundred with me right now. Please, take that and I'll give you the rest when I have it."

He fumbled around in his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills he had withdrawn from the bank since he had anticipated this meeting. Gloria snatched the wad and placed it into her bra.

"I think we can spare you for a week for this amount."

The boy looked at her with grateful eyes and then over to Isaac who had lowered the gun.

"Really?"

The switchblade entered his body from the back, stabbing deep into his lung. Isaac smiled and raised the gun again, firing once into the boy's head. The boy toppled over his brain matter littering the dirty side street.

"Have I told you how hot it makes me to see you kill someone?" Gloria smiled as she put away her bloody switchblade.

"Have I told you how hot it makes me to see you lie to other people?" Isaac responded, "Speaking of which, you stashed the drugs you stole from him in our usual spot, right?"

"Yeah," Gloria said as the couple exited the alley, "We won't have to worry about that weakling talking about our operations anymore."

* * *

Isaac was pulled back to reality as he saw someone knew had entered his sight. He watched as Molly and Matt faced off against each other. Isaac wondered what would happen, knowing that if they fought, he'd have no trouble taking out the winner. His eyes were immediately drawn to Matt, who only wore a white T-shirt with something else peaking out from beneath the fabric.

_A bulletproof vest._

Isaac recognized it immediately. He had not run into anyone with a gun yet, but there were certainly some out there. And that vest would be invaluable when he faced them. He watched to see what would happen between the two people in front of him.

Molly was the first to break the stare. She turned her back on Matt and carefully walked off, making sure to listen for an oncoming attack. Matt let out a long sigh of relief and did the same, walking off in the opposite direction as Molly.

From the bushes, Isaac watched the two contestants part ways and he instantly made his decision. The bulletproof vest was far more important than an easy kill. Isaac kept hidden as he followed his new prey. He wondered if Molly knew how lucky she was that Matt happened to find her.

* * *

Nathan (Boy #19) woke up feeling a twinge of pain in his shoulder. He looked over and wondered where the fabric had come from, before his memory kicked in. Larry (Boy #9) and Lauren (Girl #16) had found him. Lauren had helped him – probably saved his life from bleeding to death. Where were they now?

Nathan glanced around him, but saw that he was still alone, and still without food, water, a compass, a map, or any form of protection. He sighed deeply feeling the futility of the situation overpowering him.

_Where are you? I'm so useless. Even if I knew where you were, I couldn't find my way there. I'm…I'm never going to see you again, am I?_

Nathan let his tears overpower him and he lay there, completely broken. He attempted to stifle his cries, but that was all but pointless. Salty droplets fogged his vision and then streaked down his face wetting the ground. He sobbed for a while, until he no longer had any tears left to cry. He sat up brushed the dirt off him, hiccupping slightly. He inhaled deeply calming his sporadic breaths allowed the sadness to leave him completely.

_Now that that's out of the way, it's time to get back to business._

He had cried all his fears and doubts out of his system, and now Nathan was ready to begin his search anew. But since he no longer had any notion of direction and it was difficult to pinpoint the sun in the forest, Nathan decided to let luck be his guide. He pulled out the deck of cards he still had in his pocket and shuffled them a few times.

He looked in one direction and flipped over one card – the six of spades. He turned approximately ninety degrees and flipped another card – jack of clubs. Another ninety degrees. Ace of spades. Nathan made a mental note to not head in the direction of the death card. The final direction. Two of hearts. Nathan smiled. It was good enough for him.

Nathan gathered his cards and started off, letting the two of hearts guide him to where his heart could join his other.

Current danger zones: 15, 28, 41

Pending danger zones: 2, 21, 24, 64

(39) Contestants remaining


	11. Heartache

Samantha (Girl #8) stared up at the sun in the sky between the buildings around her. It surprised her every time she glanced up at it, because when The Program had started nearly eight hours before at midnight, Samantha had been sure that she would never see the sun again. And yet there it was in the sky. She had lived to see the light of day.

The horrific image reentered her mind. She was walking. She saw the fire first – the smoke rising in the sky had drawn her to the scene. However, she soon noticed that something was wrong. The air stunk of burning…burning something. Whatever it was, there was something wrong with it. She saw the bodies next. Samantha froze upon seeing the bodies. One lie on top of another and an arrow poked itself out from both sides of their heads. Her thoughts for a moment went to those ancient practical jokes she had seen before. The headsets where it made it seem like an arrow had gone through the person's head, but in reality it just went around the back. Just a practical joke. The bodies weren't joking.

Samantha had sprinted away as fast as she could. There was someone close by who had taken those contestants out. She had run until she couldn't breathe. And after falling down from her own exhaustion, Samantha stared up at the sun between the buildings around her. Slowly her breathing calmed and the welcomed silence set in. There was no one nearby, no one chasing her. She was fine, for the time being.

She stood, brushing the dirt from her clothes and noticing an average sized office building off to her side. With a quick check to the compass and map, Samantha determined she was not in the danger zone that was about to become active soon. She walked over to the edifice and walked into the lobby.

The lobby was a giant atrium with a glass ceiling that allowed an open view of the morning sky. Two elevators sat at the far end that took a person up to the designated floor and opened up to a balcony overlooking the atrium before extending further back into the floor where cubicles and offices sat.

Samantha walked over to the elevator pressing the up button. This building would be the perfect place to hide. It was large enough that it was doubtful that she'd run into anyone, even if there were more people residing in it. A soft bell was heard as the elevator slowly made its way down to the bottom floor. Samantha watched the numbers above the silver doors light up as the elevator descended. Finally the "L" for lobby lit up and the doors opened for Samantha to enter. She was shocked to see that someone was already inside it.

"Samantha?" Joshua (Boy #1) looked surprised. Fear paralyzed Samantha. She wanted to run, to escape the person who stood in front of her. She wanted to reach into her bag and pull out her weapon, a box of tacks, as some form of protection, but even that was useless. Samantha found herself crying softly, the tears blurring the boy who stood in front of her. She crumpled to the ground, her hands in front of her face. She waited for the deathblow that would eventually come. When nothing happened, Samantha pulled her hands away and stared as Joshua held his designated weapon directly in her face.

* * *

Only two of his friends still remained in Bruce's (Boy #23) house after their usual meetings. Justin (Boy #18) had volunteered to drive Genevive (Girl #21) home and so they had left. Molly (Girl #9) had to get home early thanks to an unusually unfair curfew, and Derek (Boy #2) had work the next day, which meant he needed to get home and get some sleep before the early shift. Only Kara (Girl #24) and Jeff (Boy #22) remained. Bruce's father and stepmother had gone out for the night. The three teenagers had the house to themselves.

Bruce wasn't even sure why he started talking, but it was probably because of the company he was in. It was always easy to talk to Jeff, since he never interrupted. And while his expression sometimes appeared disinterested and apathetic, his eyes held untold compassion and concern. And Kara, well…Bruce particularly enjoyed her company above everyone else's, though he'd never admit that to his friends. He kept them all equal, as far as they were concerned, but Kara had always been special to him. Whenever they were alone, he always found himself on the verge of telling her his true feelings for her, but fear always seemed to hold him back. He'd never compromise his friendship with Kara for something that may not even be there. If only he knew what she felt about him.

After some time with idle chat, Kara asked, "So your parents are out tonight?"

"Yeah, Dad and Meghan went to dinner and some sort of theater show. They won't be back until really late tonight."

A silence.

"I don't think they like me very much."

Bruce was surprised he had said that. He looked over and saw Kara leaning forward in her chair staring at him with puzzlement. Jeff hadn't reacted at all, except that he was merely focusing all his attention on Bruce.

"Why would you say that?" Kara asked.

"I feel like I let them down a lot." Bruce broke eye contact with his friends and continued talking, "My dad especially – I think he wanted me to turn out differently."

"I don't think so." Kara responded immediately, "I see how proud he is of you when he's nearby. Especially when you show off your martial arts training. Why would you think something like that?"

It wasn't something Bruce could explain. There was something in the house, in the interactions he had with his dad and stepmother, in the way that everything just existed that made him feel inadequate. Made him feel like he was in the way. He wished he could describe it, but it never came out the right way. Everything seemed normal to everyone else, he couldn't make them see that he felt unwanted.

"Is that why you cherish us so much?" Jeff finally spoke, "Because you think your family doesn't love you?"

Kara glanced over at Jeff with some surprise and Bruce joined her.

_How did he realize that so quickly? It's like he saw right through me._

"Are we your family now because you don't think you have any other?"

His barriers completely and utterly decimated, Bruce looked from Kara to Jeff and then buried his face in his hands, his tears slowly running down his cheeks.

"They…no, he – Dad – he doesn't care about me anymore, not since Mom died." Bruce wiped his eyes as more tears blurred them further, "I'm his reminder of Mom's death, every time he looks at me, I know it!"

Kara came at sat next to him wrapping him in a hug. Bruce leaned up against her, grateful for the support. And he continued to let his insecurities and worries flow out of his system along with his cries.

"And Meghan hates me! I tried to include her as my family, but she sees me as only baggage that came with my dad. They hate me…they both hate me."

"Bruce-" Kara began. She was cut off by the normally silent Jeff. He stood from his chair and approached his two friends sitting on the couch. He crouched down until he was on eye level with Bruce.

"Bruce." His voice was soft but firm. He immediately drew Bruce's attention and locked onto it with an intense stare, "I can't speak for your parents. Even though I think you are mistaken, there is a chance you are correct and I'm not going to pretend I know what things are like here all the time. That aside, you've chosen us as your family now. And none of us – me, Kara, Derek, Molly, any of us – will ever be disappointed in who you are. We all value you just as much as you value our companionship. We have no expectations and no prerequisites for you to meet. All we want is for you to be happy."

And Jeff uncharacteristically loosened his tense face and revealed a warm smile – something that his friends had seen him rarely do. Both Kara and Bruce stared at the boy smiling at them, his eyes, for once, matching the expression on his face.

"As long as you want us…me around, I'll be here."

* * *

Bruce exhaled deeply allowing the memory to leave him completely. He stood from his resting spot deep in the western part of the forest, ready to resume his search.

_My friends. No, my family. They are all I have. Until my dying breath, I will protect my family._

* * *

Samantha looked up at the beautiful red rose staring her in the face. She was confused, examining the object in front of her and determining it to be a rose before looking up at Joshua who smiled kindly down at her.

"I was thinking my weapon was going to be useless." He told her, "But I'm glad I was wrong."

"What?" Samantha gasped, finding the strength to stand.

"I've noticed you around school. You're always hanging around with your group of friends, talking and laughing about something. And…for some time now, I've been meaning to talk to you, but I'm a real coward. It's really tough trying to introduce yourself to someone you don't know, but would like to know better. I asked around, tried to see what you were interested in, so we'd have something to talk about."

Samantha was shocked at the boy who stood before her. She could honestly say that she had never noticed him before, but that obviously wasn't the case in reverse. A pang of guilt struck her, as she became fully aware of the situation at hand. He was out here, in the middle of this hell called The Program, and even so he had placed his trust in her, to tell her his true feelings for her. And all she could do was stand there like some sort of statue.

"I…I-" she began. She reached out and took hold of the rose, "It's very beautiful."

"Just like you are." Joshua said and then blushed noticeably. Samantha turned a little red too, but slowly she could feel her fear leaving.

"I love you." He said it without warning and Samantha stepped back in pure shock like she had been hit in the stomach. A crush she could handle, but love? Love was taking things a little too far.

"Uh…listen…um…"

"Joshua." He said with a wince.

"Right, Joshua. I appreciate the rose, but you see…" she trailed off.

"I understand." Joshua hung his head and grabbed his duffel bag, "You can keep the rose if you want, it didn't do me any good."

"You don't have to leave." Samantha said, although she secretly wished he would and relieve the awkwardness.

"No, it's fine. I don't want to –" he stopped. Joshua and Samantha both looked over at the doors to the office building. Someone new stood in their midst. Someone holding a bloody hand scythe.

He struck without warning, rushing at Joshua swiping his scythe horizontally. Joshua stepped back just in time across his chest. The handle of his duffel bag that hung around his shoulder was cut cleanly and fell to the floor. Another strike with the hand scythe, this time stabbing deep into Joshua's gut.

"No!" Samantha shrieked. A twist of the sharp object and a quick pull spilled Joshua's entrails all over the lobby floor.

"Samantha! Run!" Joshua cried out, launching his sliced body at his attacker. Pain wracked his body, but any head start he could give Samantha would be worth it. He had meant it when he had said he loved her, and he wasn't going to let anyone hurt her if he could help it.

Samantha raced to the elevator and entered it, hitting the button for the top floor. The boy with the scythe ignored Joshua and raced for the elevator compartment. Samantha frantically hit the "door close" button and it slammed shut before the attacker could get inside. She nearly hyperventilated as the elevator rose and her thoughts went to Joshua who had risked his life to save her. If things had been different, maybe…

The boy watched as the numbers lit up above the silver doors, and it stopped on the top floor – the seventh. He turned to see Joshua attempting to rush him again. But Joshua tripped over the body parts that hung from his open gut and he fell over screaming in pain. The boy walked over to the bleeding contestant. He leaned over glaring down at him. The boy took his scythe and slowly cut into Joshua's throat, letting the blood pour all over the lobby floor.

"Feel my pain."

He stood letting Joshua die and making his way over to the elevator. There was still one more person in this building that needed to suffer.

Current danger zones: 15, 28, 41

Pending danger zones: 2, 21, 24, 64

(38) Contestants remaining


	12. I'm going to die

"Let's rest a while." Larry (Boy #9) collapsed beneath a tree and rested his back up against it.

"Okay." Lauren (Girl #16) smiled and sat next to him, somehow finding his hand with hers and resting her head on his shoulder. She exhaled deeply and allowed her body to relax in the safety of her boyfriend's presence.

Larry took his weapon, brass knuckles, off his hand and flexed it a bit. He supposed he shouldn't have gripped the knuckles so intensely, but tension filled his body. It was tough keeping the noise down when aimlessly wandering through the forest. Larry wondered if it would be better to find a place to settle and hide out there, but he figured that wandering was better at avoiding people than sitting in one place. It had worked so far. The only person they had run across was that bleeding boy. Larry recognized him from school but couldn't remember his name. He wondered if he was still alive.

He glanced down at Lauren and saw her gently snoozing up against his body. He thought about waking her, but decided against it. They had been moving for some time now, and she deserved some rest.

Larry took hold of his brass knuckles and held them in his hand, imaging a figure stumbling out of the foliage holding a gun. His weapon was nearly useless, and Lauren's certainly was. It was a good thing he had waited for her outside the school, she probably may not have lasted long with a rubber band as her weapon.

* * *

"Hi. Is your name Larry?"

"Yeah." Larry looked up from his hospital bed and stared over at the young girl in scrubs. He squinted at her and shifted a little uncomfortably, making sure the sheets completely covered his partially clothed body. The last thing he wanted was to start talking to her with his bare ass showing.

"My name's Lauren." She smiled and approached the bed, "I'm a volunteer here. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"Uh…" Larry stuttered, looking around him. He didn't see anything else he needed – book, television, deck of cards, food. It seemed he had everything.

"Looks like I'm all set." He told her with a shrug.

"Oh, okay." Lauren smiled kindly but looked a little disappointed, "Well, if there's anything you need-" She turned to go.

"Do you know how to play gin?" Larry pulled the cards over and opened the deck, "There aren't too many good players around here."

"Actually, I don't." Lauren responded. But she approached the bed again, pulling over a chair, "But I'd like to learn."

She learned quickly and they immediately began to play, with Lauren asking small questions every once in a while. The game progressed, each of them winning multiple hands.

"So how'd you break your leg?" she asked removing a card from her hand and placing it on the deck.

"Snowboarding accident."

"Really?"

"Yup. Went off a snow mound and landed badly. Tumbled about halfway down the mountain and into a tree."

"That's awful!"

"I'm fine now."

"That's true." She smiled. Larry found himself drawn to the smile – he couldn't get enough of it. Every time it happened, he found himself trying to get her smiling again. And every time she would oblige him.

They played in silence for a minute.

"Well, I've got other patients to visit." Lauren stood to leave.

"You're going to leave right in the middle of the game?" Larry asked in shock.

"Game's over." She smirked and giggled, placing down her cards, "Gin."

Larry's mouth dropped and he looked over at her in time to see her wave and walk down the hallway giggling to herself. Larry gathered the cards together and shuffled them absent mindedly. He wondered if she would come back to see him soon. He'd like that very much.

* * *

Larry brushed some hair from her face as she gracefully slept. He sighed and shook the fatigue from his own body. He'd need to be at the top of his game to protect them both. But what would happen in the endgame? Even if they were able to avoid everyone else and somehow survive as the last two remaining, what then? He looked down into her face and a pit formed in his stomach. He knew what he'd have to do then. He'd take himself out. There was no way he'd allow Lauren to die. And since escape was impossible, she would be the final contestant. And while he was hopeful for the future, a single thought resounded in his head.

_I'm going to die._

* * *

_I'm going to die!_

Samantha's (Girl #8) mind raced at blazing speeds as the elevator made its long ascent. She could still see Joshua's (Boy #1) sliced body and dangling entrails in her mind and her eyes welled with tears. Joshua was dead and she'd be next. She needed to get away, needed to hide from him. He was coming for her life next!

The door opened on the top floor and Samantha raced out, taking a moment to look over the balcony of the floor and seeing Joshua's corpse lying in a pool of blood. Unmoving. Silent. But the boy was gone. Where was he? The elevator doors closed behind her and Samantha raced off to the side further back into the building to find a hiding place. Many of the office supplies and objects had been removed, but plenty of cubicles still stood. She ran between them, looking for one that would conceal her the best. She finally chose one and crawled beneath the desktop that curved around the square space.

The elevator bell echoed throughout the floor.

Samantha gasped and fished in her bag for her box of tacks, not entirely sure what purpose they would serve. She sat there for a bit without hearing or seeing anything, but the time passed slowly the minutes feeling like hours. Then, without warning, legs appeared next to her. She stifled a scream as liquid from the bloody scythe dripped onto the carpeted floor next to her. Her eyes watered over in pure terror and her stomach churned inside her. She kept her silence however, and the boy slowly moved onward, searching for her in other places.

She slowly exhaled and then slowly inhaled, silently allowing air into her lungs once again. She could hear him now, slowly searching for her, hunting for his prey. But she remained quiet and still, even when his legs appeared next to her again. She didn't react, she didn't move, she didn't breathe. And soon, she couldn't hear him anymore. Instead, Samantha heard the elevator bell. Her mouth opened and she gasped slightly, then instantly placing her hands over her mouth. However, no footsteps approached her, instead she heard the elevator ring again, and heard it slowly descend as the dings became further and further away.

She nearly screamed with joy as she sat hidden in the cubicle. She had stayed hidden, and he had not been able to find her! She was safe. Slowly, softly, she reached into her duffel bag and pulled out her watch. Five minutes to eight. Blocks 2 and 24 were about to go danger zone. Samantha worried that she was in the block 2, but she remembered that she had checked her map before entering this building in the first place. And she had found a good hiding place, just like she had planned. She hadn't planned on finding two boys – one who wanted to save her and one who wanted to end her.

Samantha thought back to her contact with Joshua. She remembered the smile he had given her after handing over the rose. A pang of guilt raced through her. He had poured out his feelings for her and she had given nothing in return. Granted, it's not as if she could return his feelings for her. But he was dead now. And Samantha wished she had been more kind in his last moments of life. Even after she had rejected him, he had saved her life. Perhaps he truly had loved her.

She took a deep breath and relaxed in her hiding spot in the cubicle and let the fear slowly drain from her figure. The danger had passed for now, and as long as she remained hidden, she would remain safe.

* * *

Blocks 2 and 24 went danger zone without taking any unlucky contestants with them.

* * *

Genevive (Girl # 21) examined the electrical wiring laid out before her. Small lights flashed and wires crossed every which way. However, given her limited knowledge, she was making progress from when she started nearly three hours before. She had identified what appeared to be a thermometer in the collars as well as another device which took the pulse. And she had also begun to understand the mechanics of the explosive as well. A cut wire on Alex's collar had suddenly caused it to beep twice before exploding near Genevive's face. Luckily, she had escaped injury but her observers, Marty (Boy #25) and Ron (Boy #8), looked upon her skeptically. She wished she didn't have an audience, but Ron had saved her life, and would allow her to live so long as she could get the collars off. She didn't want to think about what would happen if she failed at all four collars she had to work on.

And Marty struck her as odd too. Genevive didn't like the way he kept staring at her. As if she didn't notice him stealing glances at her cleavage when she leaned over the collars. She wasn't sure what kind situation she was in at the moment, but it sure wasn't a safe one nor a comfortable one.

With the box cutter Ron had given her, Genevive reached in and pulled out the unnecessary life monitoring devices. She looked around the necklace and saw that wires crossed all over the place, but they all led to different places. She had hoped that they would have led to a single place, which would have been a good indication of where the important devices were located.

Recognizing which cut had set off the bomb last time, Genevive moved to another set of wiring and began poking around, looking for familiar electrical setups. She pushed the wires aside and looked for some sort of…switch or something that could be used to removed the collars. Clearly the answer to taking them off resided inside the circuitry since the collars were smooth the entire way around, with no place to insert a device to remove them like a key in a lock.

Genevive carefully removed another portion from the collar. She wasn't exactly sure what purpose it served, but the explosive hadn't gone off and that was certainly a plus. Feeling adventurous, she began to remove another portion. She heard it almost immediately. Two quick beeps.

"Get down!" she yelled out and jumped off to the side. Marty and Ron instantly stood and took cover behind some trees. The explosive went off echoing through the dense forest. Genevive lifted her head off the ground.

"Damn!" she murmured. That was the second collar that was gone, which meant she only had two more to work on before things got dangerous. Ron sighed in frustration and took his usual spot observing Genevive's work with a watchful eye.

Marty sighed too but didn't sit down.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom." He said glancing one last time at Genevive's body.

"Okay." Ron replied without much interest and Genevive didn't respond at all.

And Marty walked off into the forest unaware that he would not see Genevive or Ron alive again.

Current danger zones: 2, 15, 24, 28, 41

Pending danger zones: 21, 64

(38) Contestants remaining


	13. Rapist

Marty (Boy #25) zipped up his pants after urinating on a tree. Taking what little comfort he could from the small relief, he prepared to rejoin the others – Genevive (Girl #21) and Ron (Boy #8). But he was starting to get restless in their presence. All they cared about was escaping. Well, they could all do that, but why not let Marty have his fun first? He wouldn't actually have to kill Genevive, just make her bleed a little, and after he was done with her, he'd let her continue her work. He knew that Ron wouldn't go for that plan and Marty considered masturbating right then to remove the craving for the time being. The way things were going, he was going to get absolutely no action during The Program.

A small rustling reversed the flow from Marty's manhood up to his brain and he realized that there was someone nearby. He waited a few seconds and determined where the noise was coming from. He peered around the tree and saw someone moving in the distance. Someone that was closing in on his position. Marty watched her approach and was shocked but what he saw. She was beautiful. And she was covered in blood. There was a slight stirring in his pants as Marty watched Ariana (Girl #18) carefully moving through the forest foliage. He was suddenly reminded of when he was younger.

* * *

Marty wasn't even sure why he and his older sister Corinne were fighting. It most likely had something to do with the shower or bathroom use, since his sister stood there in nothing but a towel, but that ensured nothing. Marty and Corinne were always fighting about something or other. Their parents tried talking with them, counseling, and when all else failed, prayer. They prayed with all their hearts that the brother and sister would get along like good siblings should. Most times, however, Marty's and Corinne's parents would need to intervene in the arguments. This case was special, though. Their parents were both out of the house – there would be no intervention this time.

She had slapped him first, Marty remembered. He had stood there in shock for a moment, but then retracted his arm and sent his fist into her face. He flew into a rage, punching her more in the face and pushing her into walls and furniture. She yelled for him to stop, but he relentless beat his sister until she lay bleeding and naked crying on the floor in front of him.

The smell of her blood filled his nostrils and before he knew it, a protrusion stuck out on the front of his pants. This had happened to Marty a few other times, but when he had asked his father about what was happening to him, the only answer he received was that he was thinking sinful thoughts and that he should pray to remove the sin from his mind.

But Marty didn't pray this time. Because no matter what his father said, Marty had heard other things from the boys at school. He had heard what happened when he touched it too much and he had learned what other boys did when they were with a female. He had heard what they had done.

Marty stared down at his bleeding older sister and her older, more mature body. He focused between her legs and before she could react, he was inside her. Corinne fought at first, but a few more punches from Marty and soon she gave up, sobbing loudly and pleading with her brother to stop. But Marty was too caught up. His blood flowed quickly through his veins, intensifying his intensity and drive, making him want more. Her blood flowed freely, and Marty allowed the smell to surround him, allowed the taste to filland satisfy his palette. And soon he was done.

His parents prayed harder than they ever had that night and sent him to a psychologist nearly every day for two months. And Corinne was sent away to live with other relatives while Marty was "reformed". He was upset, at first, that he would no longer be able to partake of her anymore, to smell and taste her blood as he raped her. But since his first experience, Marty's eyes were finally open. There were other girls out there, and all of them could bleed if he made them. And they did bleed…

* * *

But she was already bleeding. Marty watched her slowly approaching him without being aware of his position. She came closer, closer, closer. Marty saw the tire iron she held in one and hand, and the ice pick she held in the other. She was more armed than he, but his strength would give him the advantage, and of course there was always his weapon as well.

Marty slowly pulled out his handcuffs and readied them. As soon as he felt Ariana was close enough, he sprang from behind the tree. A quick punch to her face sent her reeling. She tumbled to the ground and Marty pounced on her, spinning her on her stomach and forcing her hands into the handcuffs. He pulled the weapons she still gripped in her trapped hands and tossed the tire iron aside.

"Get off me!" Ariana shrieked. Marty flipped her over on her back and she tried to kick him in the groin. Marty pushed her leg away and slapped her face hard, leaving a red mark on the side of her head. He moved in close to her face and pushed the ice pick to her neck.

"No more fighting." He whispered to her as he unzipped his pants with his free hand, "Or I'll kill you and then fuck you."

Ariana stared up at him with fiery eyes, but didn't say anything. She spit straight into his eye and then turned her face, loosening her body for the incoming violation. She was completely helpless in the situation. Her mind worked at blazing speed to try and figure a way to escape the situation, but with her arms handcuffed behind her back, they were useless. There were no weapons she could use to defend herself. She couldn't even persuade this guy to leave her alone if she allowed him to have sex with her. He was completely focused on raping her, and once he had done that, she was as good as dead. There was no way out, unless…

It was a long shot, and she'd have to play up to it. But there was a way to escape. And with the ice pick at her throat and her panties removed, Ariana watched as Marty pushed himself inside her and her plan began to fall into place.

* * *

Gloria (Girl #22) was going insane. As far as she was concerned, she was trapped in a group of useless weak girls who were merely holding her back from going out and finding her boyfriend Isaac (Boy #16). No one had said anything in a while, which Gloria was thankful for, and all the girls basically had remained where they were since they had entered the apartment complex. Gloria stood by one of the windows hoping to see Isaac emerge from the forest line. Kim (Girl #17) sat by another window on the perpetual lookout for any approaching contestants. April sat motionless near the door completely lost in thought. Taryn (Girl #3) sat up against one of the walls, loosely hanging on to her nun chucks. She appeared to drifting in and out of sleep. Naomi was the only girl who refused to sit still and paced around the room looking at nothing of importance, since practically everything had been stripped from the room.

As each minute passed, Gloria found herself more and more tempted to toss a grenade in the middle of the room and take off, leaving the girls to perish in one huge explosion. But something was making her stay behind. It was the small device that Naomi held constantly – an electronic neck collar tracer. Naomi held in her hand the potential position of everyone in the playing field, and Gloria was determined not to leave without that device. But her patience was wearing thin.

She suddenly became aware of Kim, who had tensed up and pulled herself closer to the window.

"Someone's coming."

The words sliced through the air and suddenly everyone had returned to reality. They slowly moved to the windows looking out at the forest line and watched as a female figure slowly emerged from the woods. Kara (Girl #24) glanced around with fear filled eyes and made her way to the urban setting.

"It's Kara." Naomi said, "I know her from one of my classes."

"Isn't she one of the people Bruce (Boy #23) was looking for?" Taryn asked.

"Yeah, she is." April said, moving closer to the window, "Kara!"

Every girl rushed at April in an attempt to quiet her, but April leaned out the window waving at the girl on the ground.

"Kara!"

Kara recoiled from the sudden noise in fright and glanced up at the girl hanging from the open window.

"Bruce is looking for you, Kara!" April called out, "He's heading west in the forest area! You should be able to find him there!"

Kara smiled weakly and waved back to April, "Thank you!" she called out before taking off back into the woods.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!" Kim cried once Kara was gone.

"What do you mean?" April replied with an annoyed look.

"You just broadcasted our location to everyone in earshot!" Kim yelled, "We're not safe here anymore. We have to go find another spot to hide."

"So what?" April yelled back, "If all we have to do is move because I helped Kara out, then that's fine with me."

"You've put us all in jeopardy with that stupid act! What if Kara's out there waiting for us to leave the building now? How do we know she's not playing?"

"I-I don't know." April stumbled on her words.

"We were safe here until you put us back in danger!" Kim pointed her finger at April.

"Safe?" April cried out, "We're not safe anywhere! As long as we're still stuck in this playing field, on The Program, we're never safe! What happens when someone who's playing finds us?"

"We take them down." Kim said with conviction.

"Then what? Even if we were able to do that unharmed every time that still leaves all of us here at the endgame. What do we do then?"

No one had an answer for that, except for Gloria, but she wouldn't say it out loud.

"What I won't do," April said, "is let them make me play. Already we've formed a group, which they don't want. They want us alone, hurting each other. Already we're working against what they want. But that's not enough for me. I refuse to let them instill in me the fear of doing the right thing."

"And telling Kara where her friend is counts as the right thing?" Kim asked.

"It does to me."

Kim sighed in frustration and picked up her duffel bag heading for the door.

"Your sense of right and wrong is going to get us killed." She said her hand resting on the doorknob.

"And your fear of trust is going to prevent us from getting saved." April shot back, picking up her duffel bag.

"Saved?" Kim nearly laughed, "How can we be saved?" The other girls continued to refrain from the argument but listened intently as they all set off for a new location to hide in.

"I don't know." April replied as the door was opened and the girls shuffled out, "But there's got to be someone else out there thinking the same thing. Someone who's actually trying to find a way to escape. We could sure use that person in our group, whoever it is."

* * *

Genevive looked up from her work on the neck collar at Ron.

"Your friend has been gone for a little while." She said.

"He's a big boy." Ron replied.

Genevive shrugged and went back to work, slowly but surely making progress at removing the collars.

* * *

Ariana started slow. She began moving her body as best she could along with Marty's thrusts. And she allowed her breathing to become more audible and in gasps. After a few minutes, Ariana was quietly moaning as she was being raped. The confusion on Marty's face told her that this had never happened to him before, and so she continued the act, letting Marty think she was actually enjoying the violation.

Marty wasn't entirely sure what was going on. Never had this happened to him before. The girls always just lay there, bleeding and crying until Marty was finished. But this girl, she wasn't crying. She was…enjoying herself. And strangely enough, he found himself enjoying himself more than he could remember. Her feminine squeals and gasps appeared to trump his previous experiences. Marty began to get a little more into the sexual act.

Ariana began to moan louder, knowing that any noises would attract attention. And Marty didn't seem to mind her being loud, so long as she was moaning and not screaming. She noticed the change in his style almost immediately. He was being a little more gentle, timing himself a little better. She had convinced him that the rape was now consensual, and Marty was doing his best to act accordingly.

"Want me to suck you?"

The question had come as a complete shock to Marty and he stopped his thrusts and stared down at the girl with the coy smile on her face. She licked her dry lips and cooed, "I promise to make it good for you."

"I-I don't-" Marty began.

"Don't tell me you've never had a blow job?" Ariana put a shocked look on her face, "When it's done the right way, nothing feel better."

Marty looked down at the bleeding goddess beneath him.

"I promise…" she whispered.

He pulled out of her completely and helped her to her knees and Ariana went to work.

Marty watched her for a minute or two, allowing himself to be taken to heaven. She had been right; he had never felt anything like this before. And he raised he eyes to the sky, taking in the full effects of the situation.

Ariana finally saw her chance, and she bit down. Hard. Blood burst in her mouth and Marty's moans instantly became screams as he shoved her face away from him. He held his quivering manhood in one of his hands and blood trickled onto the forest floor. Ariana spit out a piece of flesh from her mouth and watched as Marty stumbled to the ground. His intense pain mixed with the blood loss would make him pass out soon enough, and Ariana could make her escape. Her plan had worked.

"You bitch!" Marty slurred, gripping the ice pick in his hand. He swung his arm down, trying to stab Ariana, but she rolled out of the way.

_Pass out already! I'm defenseless here on the ground!_

Marty stumbled but stood and swung his leg which connected with Ariana's cheek, sending her rolling into a tree. Marty fell on top of her, the ice pick at her throat.

"You bit off my cock, you whore." Marty seethed, "Guess that means I'm gonna have to cut out your pussy."

Ariana watched as he raised the ice pick and prepared to strike it down into her body.

_No! Statistics! He should have passed out by now. How could I have been taken out by him? Statistics!_

A sharp crack echoed through the forest. Ariana watched as a portion of Marty's head was blown back and away from him, brain matter showering her. His body slumped and fell back, the ice pick still grasped in his hand. At first, Ariana wasn't sure what had happened, but soon she was aware of the third person in her midst.

Mitchell (Boy #24) stood there his arm outstretched and pointed down at Marty's body. In his hand, Ariana saw what had saved her life.

_A gun._

She immediately put on the waterworks, allowing the tears to cover her face and mix with the blood that dripped from her mouth. Mitchell came over and knelt beside the crying girl.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

She forcefully sobbed but managed to make out, "He…He raped me…I tried to escape…but he was going to…going to…"

Mitchell stood and looked down at the poor crying girl at his feet. She was covered in blood and he could see a cut on her stomach, where the boy he had just killed must have cut her. He saw that he hands were behind in handcuffs. And for a moment, the intense fear that The Program instilled in everyone left him as he felt pity for the violated female in front of him.

"It's okay," Mitchell told her smiling warmly, "I'll protect you."

She looked up at him. "You will?"

He walked over to Marty's dead body and pried the ice pick from his hand. He walked behind Ariana and placed the sharp end in between one of the links of the chain that held to two cuffs together. He twisted and pulled with it, being careful not to hurt her and soon the link was broken and Ariana stood with her hands finally free.

"Was this yours?" he held out the ice pick covered in blood.

"No." she lied, "I had a tire iron. He threw it over there when he attacked me."

Mitchell walked over and found the weapon, picking it up. He handed it over to Ariana.

"Here you go." He said and then he handed over the ice pick also, "This gun is all the protection I'm going to need. You take the other weapons."

Ariana smiled as she took both weapons and held them in either hand, her left arm throbbing from the fracture she had received earlier. But she didn't worry so much about that pain – soon enough she'd have a gun and she wouldn't need more than one weapon.

"You're Ariana, right?" Mitchell said.

"Yeah."

"I'm Mitchell."

"Thank you for saving my life, Mitchell." Ariana cooed.

"No big deal." Mitchell shrugged but hid the slight red tint of his blushing face. He glanced over at her and with her blood stained clothes, broken handcuffs that hung from her wrists, and a weapon in each hand, Ariana looked like some sort of warrior goddess. A beautiful warrior goddess.

Ariana saw the way Mitchell was looking at her. Two minutes and he was smitten already. She could do him right then and there, but she decided to wait. She didn't want to ruin her good fortune. She was lucky to be alive – the statistics of someone coming to her rescue were too small to even take into consideration. She wouldn't risk losing the gun so soon.

"You ready to continue on? Someone may have heard the gunshot, it's probably not safe here."

She walked up to Mitchell and entwined her good right arm with his left.

"I don't care as long as I'm with you." She purred, "I'm safe with you because I know you'll protect me until your dying breath."

Mitchell blushed again and they continued onward.

…_until your dying breath._

Current danger zones: 2, 15, 24, 28, 41

Pending danger zones: 21, 64

(37) Contestants remaining


	14. Preservers of Life

Leslie (Girl #25) had stopped to rest once again. She checked her map and compass to make sure she hadn't wandered into an area that was about to go danger zone. Determining herself to be safe, Leslie breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly in an attempt to remove the fear from creeping its way back into her mind.

_Strong people don't get scared._

His presence wasn't a surprise to her. She had heard him coming, and because of that, she knew he couldn't sneak up on her. He walked in front of her and stared at her figure, the fear noticeably growing in his wide eyes.

Leslie didn't even bother to say anything to him. Instead, she stood and turned her back on him to walk away.

"Wait!" Connor (Boy #4) called after her. She stopped and turned her head slightly, shooting a tough glare in his direction.

"You're not playing, are you?" Connor said, "If you were, you would have attacked me. I'm not playing either."

"Good for you." She started to leave again.

"Wait!" he called out again, "Since neither of us is playing, why not team up for a while?"

"I'm not looking for company."

"I can't say that I blame you." Connor replied, "But this game pits all of us against one another. If I can find even one person who I know doesn't want to hurt me, that's enough to give me some sort of comfort."

"And how do you know I won't hurt you?"

"Because you would have by now. You're Leslie, right? Everyone knows about your martial arts training."

Leslie spun around and faced the boy in her midst.

"If you don't leave me alone right now, you'll see that training first hand." Leslie sneered, "I'm not looking to team up with anyone, especially some weakling like you!"

Connor stood there for a minute staring at Leslie as she entered her fighting pose. She had never been more surprised when he rushed at her. She squatted slightly, ready to parry any attack he was throwing at her. Instead, he ran next to her and tugged her into some nearby bushes. She tried to cry out when his hand clamped over her mouth. He sat there and put a finger to his mouth when suddenly a large group of people walked into their midst.

"Are you sure you heard someone over here?" Luna (Girl #5) asked clinging to the side of Salvador (Boy #17) who held a revolver at the ready. They slowly made their way forward and three more forms followed behind them. Janelle (Girl #10) carried two duffel bags while her boyfriend, Sid (Boy #14), held a massive metal shield with both arms that looked like it belonged to a large suit of armor. The final member of the group, TJ (Boy #12) held his taser ready to strike anyone close by.

"I'm positive that I heard someone talking." Salvador said as he surveyed the area.

"Maybe they were a little further?" TJ suggested.

Sid said nothing but merely glanced around, looking for signs of movement. Janelle clung to his side as if trying to hide in between his thick muscular frame and the metal shield he held.

Leslie froze from where she hid next to Connor. He still had his hand planted against her mouth, but she didn't dare move or even breathe with the threat so close to her. She sized each of the people in front of her. The two girls appeared to be weaklings and completely useless in a fight – they would be taken out easily. And the boy who led the group appeared weaker than the other two, but of course that was compensated with the gun he held. The boy at the end of the group would pose some threat based on his fighting experience, which appeared to be more than the average person. What worried Leslie was the massive boy in the middle of the group. He was clearly the major threat with tough defenses and power to spare.

"Let's keep moving." Salvador instructed after a few minutes of waiting, "If there was someone here, they're still close by. Get ready for battle everyone - we'll claim our first kill soon."

The group moved its way out of the area and Connor and Leslie sat there completely breathless still hidden in the bushes. They waited a good fifteen minutes before venturing from their hiding place. Connor gasped for breath as if he had forgotten to breathe in the bushes and slowly let the adrenaline leave his body. He and Leslie were still safe for the moment.

Connor was shocked when he saw Leslie try to leave.

"Even after all that, you're going to abandon me here?"

"I told you already. I don't team up with weak people."

"And you're not weak?" Leslie shot him the fiercest glare he had ever seen.

"I…am…not…weak." She said it slowly, emphasizing each word.

"So since when do strong people require saving?"

"I could have taken care of myself."

"Are you kidding? You saw them! They were loaded with weapons, including a gun! You're saying you could have defeated them all?"

Leslie didn't say anything.

"I can't believe how arrogant you are! I frigging save your life and you don't even have the courtesy to thank me? You instead tell me I'm weak and that you didn't need my help?"

"I'm not arrogant. I'm just aware of my abilities-"

"Overconfident in your abilities." Connor interrupted, "You would have died just now."

Again, Leslie said nothing. She stared at him for a few minutes before turning her back on him once again.

"I'll make you a deal." She said, "You admit that I don't need your help and I'll let you join me for the time being."

"Really?"

"Do we have a deal or not?"

"Deal. You didn't need my help just now."

"Good, I'm glad you see things my way."

She started walking and then turned to see Connor still standing there. He looked after her, unsure if she was serious in her agreement.

"Are you coming or not?"

Connor smiled and walked after Leslie who had begun walking again.

"By the way, my name's Connor." It was a few minutes later before Connor spoke again. "So why was it so important to you that I tell you that you didn't need help?"

"Mind your own business."

* * *

Carlos (Boy #3) stared out one of the windows from the apartment he was in. It had taken him over nine hours, but he had finally finished reading and rereading each and every contestant file in his possession. Movement caught his eye and he watched a group of girls cautiously move into his sight. They all huddled close together and a few held their weapons out, although none looked very dangerous. Carlos' eyes were drawn to the girl who led the group, glancing down at some hand-held device. She stopped suddenly and looked over at Carlos' direction. Instinctively, he moved out of the window and away from their sight. He wasn't looking for any company at the moment.

Carlos peered around the window and saw that the girls were moving onward. He recognized a few, but couldn't remember their names. He guessed they were all friends and were trying to survive The Program together. Even Carlos could see how futile that was. Carlos felt relatively lucky that he didn't know any of the other contestants all that well – this way he didn't need to concern himself with how his friends were doing. The few friends he did have were from his job. As far as Carlos was concerned, finishing high school was a requirement from his parents. He had no intention of going off to college. Instead, he was going to work full time at his job instead of merely part time and help support his parents and sister, since they almost never had enough money. But because of this decision, Carlos never become involved at school, he had never met anyone there, and instead just did what he could to pass so that he could graduate and dive headfirst into his job.

Carlos leaned his back against the wall and stared down at the papers in front of him. Sure, they had been very informative, but what good would they be when someone was trying to break down the door? Everything he had read, all the knowledge that was swimming around in his mind would be useless if he didn't apply it. He was safe in the locked apartment for the time being, but once someone came looking for him, which would happen eventually, he'd be defenseless and eliminated.

_If I'm going to use my weapon to its greatest potential, I have to leave this apartment._

Carlos couldn't see himself actually killing anyone, but he certainly didn't want to lose. He gathered all the papers together and placed them into his duffel bag. He looked over at the door that exited the room and that would thrust him back into the reality of The Program. More than anything else in the world, he did not want to open that door.

_I can wait a little bit longer…_

After all, some more areas were about to go danger zone, and after that would come some more announcements. There was no big hurry. It's not like there was anyone out there he was looking for or someone who was looking for him. But he promised himself to give himself a fighting chance at survival. And survival didn't mean waiting until someone came to kill him. It meant to go out and use the knowledge he had been given to the best of his ability. If only he could figure out what good this knowledge would do…

* * *

Paul (Boy #21) was taking a break for the moment. He hadn't run across anyone else since that whole fire fiasco. He wondered what would possess someone to start something as noticeable as a fire. Obviously he hadn't been the only one to be attracted to it, but all in all, he had made out pretty well. He had found a long range weapon, granted it wasn't a gun but he wasn't going to be picky. He'd probably be able to cripple someone with it and then move in for the kill with his hunting knife or hammer.

He wondered how the series would portray him when it was finally released. He was positive that the opening scene of him taking out his girlfriend would brand him as an unfeeling hardcore player through and through. But Paul didn't particularly like that portrayal. There was far more to him than that.

He thought back to ten years ago, when he was barely eight. And he watched his father die in a hospital bed in front of him. No one can fully understand death at eight years of age, and to Paul, his father had merely decided to take a nap. Paul was confused why his dad was napping so early in the afternoon, but he was always tired recently. Paul guessed it had something to do with the "keemo" and "can sir" he had heard everyone mentioning. It took a few days for Paul to realize that his father would never be coming back.

But through his tears at the funeral, the words of his uncle rang through the air and would remain with him for the rest of his life.

"My brother loved life." Paul's uncle said, "When someone asked him what he valued most, my brother would say, 'Life. Because it's through life I'm able to wake up every day next to the woman I love and see my beautiful children experience life for themselves.' Everything he valued he was given through life, and for that he was eternally grateful. And when he was dying, he didn't curse life for dealing him a bad hand and he didn't wait for death. Life was still his gift, and he planned on using it to his full potential."

Paul lived by those words. He would follow his father's example – he would take full advantage of the life he was given. Sometimes that meant spending time with his family or friends. Sometimes that meant experimenting with drugs, sex, and alcohol. Life was Paul's gift, and he would live it to his full potential, by experiencing all life could offer before it was taken away from him.

_I am no wielder of death. I am the preserver of life. Sorry Dad, but there's still so much more life for me to experience here before I can see you again. And I won't let anyone take it away from me._

Paul sat there, remembering the few memories he had of his father. They were all good memories - times spent playing catch or watching television or being helped when he needed it. These were the activities that Paul's father had chosen to do with his life. He could have gone out and slept with as many women as he could, or he could have traveled the world. But instead, he spent time with Paul and his siblings – making sure they would grow up into fine people who also appreciated the one life they were given.

_I learned Dad. I appreciate life. And I will defend it with all that I am. Don't worry, I'll make you proud._

Feeling rejuvenated, Paul stood flashing his trademark smile. The new danger zones were about to become active and that meant that only two more hours remained before the next announcements. He had no idea how many were out this time, but he had two kills and was looking to increase that number before the next announcements.

And as blocks 21 and 64 went danger zone, Paul set off to preserve his own life at the cost of depriving others of theirs.

Current danger zones: 2, 15, 21, 24, 28, 41, 64

Pending danger zones: none

(37) Contestants remaining


	15. Announcements part 2

"_Good afternoon, contestants! As you may or may not know, depending on whether you are alive or not, it's now noon. And you all know what that means. It's time for another update. A report of seven kills in the last six hours. Well, it seems that you all are working for constancy, since we had six kills during our last set of announcements. While the majority of our viewers enjoy bloodbaths of at least five kills at once (as a matter of fact, most of our viewers demand a lighthouse in every playing field), I personally admire the notion of 'slow and steady wins the race.' At this pace, my little warriors, the confirmed last kill should be about hour 50, which is very close to our record. Now, for those who don't know, our record as it stands is two days, 1 hour, 37 minutes, and 43 seconds set by the voluptuous Ann --, or as everyone else knew her, deadly Girl #13. Remember gentlemen, looks can be deceiving."_

* * *

Ariana (Girl #18) sat away to Mitchell (Boy #24) so that he couldn't see her computations and notes on the back of her map. There was no reason to make him think that there was more going on inside her head than he guessed. However, Ariana couldn't help but smirk at the last comment made by Mr. Smith.

Mitchell sat intensely listening to the announcements being made. He didn't even notice Ariana staring at the semi automatic gun he carried in one of his jeans pockets. She watched it and watched him, and she waited. All she'd need to do is get him to take off his pants, which would be easy enough. But in the meantime, her attention was drawn back to the announcements.

* * *

" _Should any of you break the record, you will receive a nice big bonus from the pension you receive from the government each year. Yes, I know, it's very generous of us. But it's our special way of thanking you for taking the initiative and proving your patriotism by removing all those who don't deserve to be here."_

* * *

Paul (Boy #21) didn't care very much about patriotism, but that extra bonus would sure come in handy after he had won. After all, the best way to take full advantage of the life that you've been given is to have the money to do the things you want. And while Paul was never truly driven by greed, he recognized money's usefulness in the world around him. Yes, that extra bonus would make life that much sweeter.

* * *

"_Now for your history lesson. Way back when The Program was started, there was no three day maximum playing time. The game lasted until there was a winner, or if there were no reported kills in a twenty four hour span. This setup didn't work too well since more often than not, all contestants were killed towards the endgame when people had trouble finding one another. And since there was no cap on time, The Program would sometimes last for a couple weeks. In that scenario we had trouble with contestants dying of starvation or dehydration, which was very boring to watch. And there was also the problem of contestants using the items they found in the playing field to try and escape. And so now you know how the game evolved to what it is today. Three days is plenty of time to declare a winner. And all items have been removed so that you must rely on what has been given you and there is no chance for escape. So on the off-chance that any of you were wondering why there is a time limit or why none of the buildings have any useful items in them, now you know.Now that your history lesson is done, on to the dead. First up, we have Boy # 2 – Derek."_

* * *

Bruce (Boy #23) sat dumbstruck for a moment. He was almost sure he hadn't heard correctly. How could Derek be dead? It had been less than a day ago that he had seen Derek standing by his locker before both boys went down to the assembly that had sent them into this deathtrap. If only he had found Derek sooner, maybe then he wouldn't have been killed.

Guilt and sadness racked Bruce's thoughts. But soon after, a sense of purpose ran through him. Derek was beyond saving now, but the rest of his friends were still alive, and they still needed him. Bruce pushed back thoughts of his fallen friend and refocused on the announcements, silently praying that no more of his friends would be announced.

* * *

"_Next we have Girl #23 – Debra, taken out just before she could end some other contestant. However, don't worry little warriors, her intended kill is the next name on the list, Girl #2 – Sophie. There's a lesson to be learned from Sophie everyone – if you play with ether and fire, you're going to get burned to a crisp, and then shot with an arrow. Moving on, we have Boy #13 – Vince, who was dumb enough to walk out of the playing field of his own free will. I guess stupid is as deadly a disease as AIDS these days. Next up we have Boy #5 – Eric, who was tragically betrayed and stabbed in the back…or in this case the neck. Major bonus points to you who took out Eric – our viewers do like surprises and nothing is more surprising than betrayal. Boy #1 – Joshua is the next kill on the list. The poor boy died of a broken heart and several cuts to his abdomen and throat. And the last name on the list is Boy # 25 – Marty who died of…well, it even makes me cringe to think of what happened to him. Like I said before gentlemen, looks can be deceiving."_

* * *

Genevive (Girl #21) looked up from writing down information on her map. The news of Derek's death had shocked her more than she was letting on. More than anything, the revelation drove Genevive to want to disarm the collars as fast as possible.

"Your friend is dead." She said to Ron (Boy #8), "That was probably the gun shot we heard earlier."

"He wasn't really a friend of mine." Ron responded coldly.

"Friend or not, it's another body and another neck collar for me to work on. And since he was here, his body's probably close by. You should go get him."

Ron was silent for a moment, then said, "Okay, but I want you to come with me."

"Afraid I'll run off?"

"That, and I don't need someone surprising you and taking you out while I'm away. You're my ticket out of here, and that makes you more valuable than weaponry or company."

"Fine, I'll go with you once the announcements are over."

* * *

"_On to the danger zones. Since double the standard issue of danger zones inspired you to continue your rampage since the last set of announcements, we have decided to keep up with the double amount of forbidden areas to keep you players on your toes. Immediately following this announcement, blocks 6 and 11 go danger zone. So if you're currently in one of those zones (this means you miss Girl #12) your best bet would be to leave before you die. At two this afternoon blocks 4 and 17 become danger zones. And finally at four blocks 25 and 31 become danger zones. I will be back in six hours at six tonight with your next set of announcements. Do me proud little warriors, do me proud."_

* * *

Shaina (Girl #12) sprinted as fast as her large muscular body could go. Upon hearing her number being called over the loudspeakers, she had taken off running south away from block 6. And as soon as she heard the announcement officially end, Shaina's breath caught in her throat. She continued running for a little while longer and when she realized that her head was still sitting on top of her shoulders, she stopped her sprint and collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air. She was completely unaware by how close of a margin she had survived.

She leaned up against the side of a building and pulled her designated weapon from her duffel bag. Shaina was exactly disappointed in it, since she had played softball for a while and a metal baseball bat was practically the same thing. She held the metal bat at her side, just in case someone tried to attack her, but Shaina didn't see that as a huge possibility. She was athletic and tough with a large butch frame. She always batted clean-up on her softball team, being one of the few girls who could really nail the ball on her high school softball team. The hard part wasn't hitting the ball, it was running once she hit it. If she had half the speed of the other girls, she'd be able to make it home most of the time. She could almost always make it to third, it was running home that she had trouble with.

And since Shaina was a large female on an athletic team, many times her sexuality was called into question by other petite girls with self esteem complexes. But most of that was stopped when Shaina officially came out and brought her new girlfriend to one of the school dances. It was a bold move to many and brought admiration from some and contempt from others – most Shaina had never met before. She wished it wasn't such a big deal since, whether good or bad, Shaina didn't like being judged by others who had never met her. But Shaina couldn't change who she was and took everything in stride, letting others think and do what they wanted just as she did.

Shaina pulled out her map and did the best she could to try and remember which zones would become danger zones and at what times. When they were being announced, Shaina had been running for her life and because of that, she had missed a good majority of them. She knew that 6 and 11 were now danger zones and she remembered hearing another zone in the urban setting, but couldn't remember its number. Giving up, Shaina sighed and tossed her map back into her bag.

_Luisa, thank God you're not here too. I don't know what I'd do if you were part of this hell also._

But while Shaina was grateful her girlfriend was subjected to the same horror she was, she wished that she had someone with her to help her out. Shaina thought to anyone in the game who would be able to help her out. She was pretty good friends with Mitchell and Minh (Boy #6). And she'd hang out with Terri (Girl #6) every once in a while also. And Kim (Girl #17) was one of her softball teammates. They weren't exactly friends, but Shaina trusted Kim to help her out. And besides, Kim was pretty and had some cute friends too – maybe she had met up with them already?

Still feeling slightly exhausted from her sprint from death, Shaina stood taking a firm grip on her baseball bat. She began walking further south, checking her compass so as to make sure she didn't accidentally wander into the danger zone of block 21. As soon as she rounded the corner of the building, Shaina became aware of the small figure standing in front of her.

Beth (Girl #1) stood in paralyzed fear of the giant female standing in her sight. She saw the metal bat hanging loosely in her hand and glanced back up in fear as she pictured this monster of a girl overpowering her and bashing her skull in with the bat.

"No." Beth barely whispered in complete and utter terror.

"Hey, calm down." Shaina said taking a step forward, her eyes suddenly becoming aware of the small girl's designated weapon.

"No, not me!" Beth cried and raised the Uzi that was slung around her shoulder.

"I'm not paying!" Shaina cried out on deaf ears.

"NOT ME!" Beth grasped the gun with both hands and let loose a stream of lead that cut deep into the lesbian before her. Shaina screamed inhumanely as the bullets entered her body and were slowed by her bulk before penetrating to the other side. Beth screamed too as she lost control of the powerful weapon in her hands and fell backwards, the gun clattering on the ground. Beth watched as the powerful girl fell to her knees and blood poured from the many opening in her body. But Shaina wasn't dead yet. She looked over at the small frightened girl and a rage filled her body.

Shaina stood and gripped the metal baseball bat. Beth screamed and scrambled away grabbing hold of the strap of her powerful gun. Shaina swung down and missed Beth's small frame. She planted her feet and brought her hips around swinging full force, but the blood loss was already affecting her vision and Beth was too far away for Shaina to hit. She spun slightly off balance before hitting the ground. However, her frustration drove her further and Shaina stood again approaching Beth to end her.

"Get away!" Beth screeched and pulled the trigger again, the bullets missing their target. Shaina swung the bat trying to smash Beth in the head, but Beth fell to the ground, the blow completely missing her. Shaina moved in with the bat high above her head, ready to crush the cranium of the girl who had shot her.

"No! Not me!" Beth raised the gun and fired again. Her target was now much closer and Beth was able to get a few shots into Shaina's neck. Shaina gurgled and her eyes went wide. She dropped the bat which metallically clanged as she brought her hands to her throat. Beth scrambled to her feet and ran off in fear with her Uzi and duffel bag in tow. Shaina watched the girl run off, her whole body convulsing with pain and anger.

_Luisa…I'm sorry. I…I couldn't make it._

Shaina fell to the earth in a pool of blood. Her last thoughts were those of her last ten minutes, when she had run so far to avoid death, only to run headfirst into it. That was just like her. She could alwaysrun to third. She just couldn't ever make it home.

_Home…_

* * *

Samantha (Girl #8) glanced down at the map before her. She had written down all the necessary information and remained in her hiding place examining the map. She could see what they were doing. They were trapping people in the urban district. There were too many places to hide there, so they're cutting them off to increase random encounters. Already the top right corner was completely cut off - blocks 7, 8, and 16 were surrounded by a line of diagonally placed danger zones. She wondered if there were any contestants in those blocks. There was a slight chance at escaping, if they could somehow move diagonally down without moving into the blocks directly south or west of them. That really taking a chance, however. But Samantha supposed that is she was in that situation, it was what she would try to do.

However Samantha had her own danger zone problems for the moment. To the west block two was a danger zone and now block 11 to the south was a danger zone as well. And in two hours, block 4 would be a danger zone too, effectively trapping Samantha in this building for the rest of the game. She didn't particularly mind that, but what happened if she needed to escape? She'd have the same problem as any contestant in the northeast of the playing field. As much as Samantha hated the idea, she'd have to find another hiding spot. But not immediately. She still had two hours, which gave her a little more time to enjoy the safety of her hiding spot.

Somehow, Samantha knew she wouldn't be able to stay in one hiding place for very long. And she didn't mind finding another one as much as she minded reentering the danger of The Program. She was not looking forward to walking past Joshua's (Boy #1) body. And even though she wouldn't recognize it, the fear that_ he_ was still out there frightened her beyond reason. She didn't even want to think of him, since the mere thought of him sent shivers through her body.

The boy with the scythe had troubling hearing the announcements, but he was able to figure everything out and write it all down. He crossed off the names of the dead on the list and wrote down all the danger zones. He stared down at the map and the realization hit him.

_She's going to have to come out of hiding sooner or later._

However, the boy made no sounds, no movements. He had waited for some time and he could wait a little longer. And soon another name would be crossed off the list and he could move on to spreading his plague to more contestants.

_But first, she must suffer._

Current danger zones: 2, 6, 11, 15, 21, 24, 28, 41, 64

Pending danger zones: 4, 17, 25, 31

(36) Contestants remaining


	16. Incriminating Circumstance

More than anything, Isaac (Boy #16) was annoyed. He wasn't sure how long he had been following Matt (Boy #20) around, but it had been a while. At first Isaac was just being cautious, making sure to attack only when he was sure he'd have the advantage. But at the moment, there had been no such instances. Hell, Matt had refused to stop moving since Isaac had found him. He was having enough trouble just keeping up with him, never mind setting a trap for him. He was beginning to wonder if the bulletproof vest that Matt was wearing was worth the trouble of tracking him.

* * *

"So what's your biggest fantasy?"

Isaac took the lit cigarette away from his mouth and glanced over at Gloria (Girl #22) who lay naked beside him. She had a bad habit of wanting to talk after sex, but if that's all it took to keep her around for a little while longer so that he could maybe use up more of his condoms, then he could manage.

"Fucking as many girls as I can at once."

"And what guy's isn't? Come on, how about something I have some control over?"

"You really wanna know?"

"That's why I asked, dumbass."

"I've always wanted to fuck on a bed covered in money."

"Money?"

"Yeah. Like tens and twenties and hundreds, all over the sheets and to just do it right on top."

"Why money?"

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

"But forget about it. We don't have nearly enough money from our sales to do that."

Isaac took a long drag from his cigarette and exhaled slowly, allowing the toxic smoke to enter his lungs and settle his nerves before releasing it into the air. He felt Gloria moving around on the bed and soon she was behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest. He found himself rising to the occasion of a round two.

"There's another way to get that money." Gloria whispered in his ear before they returned to business.

* * *

"This is a hold-up." Isaac said from behind a ski mask. He pointed the gun point-blanc at the man behind the counter at the gas station. The man's eyes widened in fear and instantly he glanced up at the ceiling. Gloria noticed the look and followed his gaze to discover the security camera sitting in the corner. Expertly she flipped her switchblade and went to cutting wires while Isaac held open a large burlap sack.

The man opened up the register and started pouring in the bills into the bag. Isaac looked back and saw Gloria in her mask effectively dismembering the camera and then placed on the ground where she preceded to stomp it into submission.

Isaac glanced out the windows into the night. He saw no approaching cars and no sirens. So far, they were alone at the gas station, and it looked like it would remain that way. Soon the register was empty and Isaac took the sack from the frightened man. Isaac looked over to Gloria.

"Come on, Janet, let's go!"

Gloria widened her eyes and hissed harshly at Isaac, "Now he knows my name, stupid."

Isaac shrugged and held the gun up to the man's head. The man fell beneath the counter and curled into a ball as both Isaac and Gloria rushed out of the gas station and into a car parked outside. Immediately the pair raced off with their loot.

"So you're sure this car belongs to a woman named Janet?" Isaac asked as they sped around a corner on their way to return the stolen car.

"That's what it says on the insurance forms." Gloria responded after opening the glove compartment and checking again.

"You're always so many steps ahead."

"I know." She smiled with slight pride, "Now, we didn't get enough bills to cover the sheets, but a few more jobs like this one and we'll have plenty."

"But for now, we'll just do what we can, right?" Isaac said with sly smile.

Gloria responded by reaching out and unzipping Isaac's pants and leaning over to him. And Isaac sped up slightly as he returned the stolen vehicle in style.

* * *

Isaac saw them long before Matt did. From his vantage point behind Matt, Isaac could see the large group approaching him.

_Two…no, three boys. And one's a monster! Is that a shield he's holding? Two girls too. They look useless. I wonder what's gonna happen._

The group was upon Matt before he knew they were there. He stared at them, his eyes widening as more and more people emerged from the foliage. Salvador (Boy #17) said nothing as the rest of his gang stood behind him, ready to defend him. Matt spun and turned to run. Salvador pulled the trigger and the gun went off, hitting Matt in the square of the back. He cried out and tumbled forward.

Luna (Girl #5) and Janelle (Girl #10) stood at the very back glancing around nervously as if they knew Isaac was watching from somewhere. TJ (Boy #12) smiled with satisfaction at the group's first kill turning on the taser in his hand since he had nothing else better to do with it. Sid (Boy #14) stood at the side of Salvador ready to cover him with his large metal shield at a moment's notice.

Matt groaned on the ground, but soon he was up again and sprinting away from the deadly armed gang.

"He's getting away!" Salvador yelled out and ran after him, firing another shot. The two other boys immediately followed Salvador and the girls followed soon after. Isaac went after the group as well, making sure to keep his distance. He didn't want to lose the bulletproof vest, and there was a nice group of other weapons for the taking from the group he had run into. If only he could figure out a way to get them all without a frontal attack. Gloria was so much better at planning things than he was…

* * *

"Where did he go?" Salvador cried out. He looked around him, scanning the forest for any signs of movement but he saw nothing.

"Fuck!" he yelled out firing a shot into the air.

"Relax, Salvador," TJ said, "You're only gonna waste the ammo."

"Since when do you tell me what to do?" Salvador glared at TJ.

"Sorry."

"Now help me find him! Luna, Janelle! You stay here and watch our bags. The less we have to carry, the faster we can move so we can catch the bastard."

The two girls had finally caught up with the boys and gasped for breath. The guys dropped their bags and turned to leave.

"What if someone finds us here?" Luna called out.

"Use that dagger I gave you." Salvador replied and soon they were gone. Luna pulled the dagger from her bag and held it in her hand, looking over at Janelle. Janelle glanced back, but didn't say anything.

"What are we gonna do, Janelle?" Luna asked.

"I'm not sure. But for now, the safest place is with the boys."

"You trust them to help us?"

"Not at all." Janelle replied, "We're safe until they don't think we're worth keeping around. Then we're goners."

"What about Sid?"

Janelle didn't respond at first. Her eyes softened a little at the mention of her boyfriend, but then returned to normal. "Sid's always been tough to read, since he says so little. I really don't know if he'll put me above his loyalty to Salvador."

Luna didn't respond. She sighed for a minute and the held out the dagger. "Here, I'm no good with weapons. If anyone does try to attack us, you'll be able to protect us better until the boy's return."

Janelle smiled. "Thanks."

* * *

Isaac saw his chance and he took it. He raced out, swinging hard with his katana at both of the females. Janelle grabbed the dagger and swung it up to meet Isaac's sword. Luna fell back staring up as Isaac pulled and swung again, trying to cut into Janelle's arm. With surprising agility, Janelle spun away and lashed out with the dagger. Luna tried to scream, to get up and run, to do anything but found herself completely frozen as the fight continued.

Janelle attacked this time, lunging with the small blade. Isaac batted it away with his stronger arm and lifted a knee straight into the girl's chest. She bent over and coughed as the air rushed from her lungs. Isaac raised his sword to sever her head, but Janelle glanced up and jumped back as the katana sliced off a few strands of her dark hair. She stared at him for a few seconds and then rushed him again raising her dagger high and attempting to swipe down. Isaac raised his sword to block. Janelle instantly stuck out her foot and placed a solid kick into Isaac's groin.

_NOT AGAIN!_

Isaac groaned and fell over blacking out for a second. He shook off the pain that coursed through his body and saw Janelle driving the dagger down toward his head. He rolled out of the way. Considerably pissed off at having his nuts cracked again, Isaac drove forward with a loud cry. Janelle tried to block with the dagger, but the stronger attack with the larger blade knocked the weapon to the ground. Isaac rushed over and landed a hard punch to Janelle's face, sending her to the ground hard.

Isaac bent over and picked up the dagger. He approached Janelle when a thought hit him. He glanced over and saw that Luna remained frozen on the ground, staring up at him with intense fear. A large smile crossed his face as an idea that would have made Gloria proud of him finally hit Isaac. He placed the katana in his bag and moved toward Janelle with the dagger. She was standing by the time he reached her. She raised two fists as she prepared to fight for her life. But Isaac had been nailed enough times to know where she was aiming.

He came at her and she rose her foot trying to get another hit on Isaac's manhood. He swiped the dagger down cutting deep into the side of her shin. Janelle cried out and the dagger was quickly removed. She hobbled back easing her injured leg when Isaac came at her again. He stabbed deep into her stomach and pulled out quickly, stabbing her again and again. She jolted and gurgled with each thrust until Isaac finally stabbed the dagger deep into Janelle's throat. He stood over his victim and then looked over at Luna whose eyes were strained on Janelle's lifeless body. Isaac approached her glaring down at the frightened girl. She shook in pure terror as he crouched in front of her on the ground.

"Let's see if your friends believe your story." He smirked and then stood up walking away. Isaac walked into the foliage and pretended to go further than he had. After a minute he slowly made his way back to watch what would play out. She was still there when he returned, staring at the corpse and gripping the diamond shaped heart necklace that hung around her neck. Somehow, she found her voice.

"SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL!" she screeched, "HELP ME!" She continued screaming for a full three minutes until the boys reappeared. They saw her crying and screaming on the ground near the corpse of the other female in their gang.

"Janelle!" Sid uttered as he moved next to body as blood continued to pour from the many wounds.

"Shit, what happened, Luna?" Salvador asked standing in front of her. She didn't respond right away. She leapt up and hugged Salvador crying into his shoulder. No one said anything for a minute, until TJ broke the silence.

"That dagger." Everyone looked his way, "Look, she was killed with the dagger you had."

"No!" Luna cried, "He…he said that you guys wouldn't believe me!"

"Who did?" Salvador asked.

"The guy who killed Janelle!" Luna cried all at once.

"Some guy came and killed Janelle with your weapon?" TJ said with suspicion growing in his eyes.

"They…they fought…I…tried to call…for…for help." She said between sobs.

"So some guy came here and killed Janelle with your weapon and he just spared you?" TJ glared at the crying girl.

"Yeah. I don't know why, but he did! He came out of nowhere and killed Janelle and then left! He did!"

TJ looked over at Sid who still stared down at his girlfriend's dead body. He wasn't sure what the big guy was thinking, but there was no way anyone was buying Luna's story. She had killed Janelle, plain and simple.

"We believe you, baby." Salvador said.

"We do?" TJ looked at him in shock.

"Of course we do." Salvador replied with a hard stare, "I don't think Luna could have taken down Janelle without getting injured herself. And she's got no blood on her either – she'd probably have gotten pretty bloody if she had done that to Janelle."

Sid stood and looked over at Luna and Salvador not saying anything. TJ stared also in complete astonishment as to what was happening right before his eyes.

_This bitch is getting away with murder! Salvador's too blind by her rack and ass to see the truth! Will he stand by her if she tries to take out me or Sid?_

Salvador looked at the two other boys and raised his gun in the air.

"Anyone disagree?"

TJ sighed but shook his head. Sid, as usual, remained silent, picking up his shield and his duffel bag.

"I didn't think so." Salvador put the gun away, "Now, that lucky son of a bitch got away and we're down a member. I say it's about time we kick things up a little."

The other members nodded as Luna continued to cling to Salvador.

"Luna, take the extra food and water from Janelle's bag. And grab her weapon too, you know, the flashlight. You can hang onto it and help us see when it gets dark again."

Luna hesitantly let go and did as she was told. Salvador walked over and pulled the dagger out of Janelle and handed it over to Luna. She cringed and slowly grasped the handle.

"We can switch if you want." TJ forced the kindest smile he could. Luna nodded and handed it over and took hold of the taser, pressing the button once to make sure it worked. TJ wiped the dagger on a nearby bush to get rid of some of the stains and took hold of his new weapon. The dagger was a lot more deadly than some stupid taser, and the way things were going he was going to need all the protection he could get. He saw it clearly now – Luna and Salvador were in this together. They'd use the rest of the gang to draw fire and once everyone else was gone, they'd kill the gang, bang for a little while, and then they'd fight for the victory. Of course Salvador would win, or at least that's what TJ thought. Luna was a lot tougher than he thought if she had taken down Janelle the way she did. He'd have to watch her more carefully. And who knew what that oaf Sid was thinking? For all TJ knew, Sid was planning to take everyone else out too. And Salvador…TJ didn't know what to think anymore. Was his leader really looking out for the entire gang? He didn't seem to broken up about losing Janelle. True, it was only Janelle, but still…

The gang continued forward, one member short and much less united than they once had been.

* * *

Isaac watched from the bushes, once again stalking new prey. But this time he had another kill under his belt. He wished that the three boys had taken out the girl he had let live, but he didn't see the immediate need. She was as good as dead. And with her alive, things would certainly remain interesting in the group. Yes, the dynamic was very interesting.

He practically giggled as he moved onward following the gang. Slowly but surely, his mind began to form a second phase to his plan. Yes, things had become very interesting.

Current danger zones: 2, 6, 11, 15, 21, 24, 28, 41, 64

Pending danger zones: 4, 17, 25, 31

(35) Contestants remaining


	17. Twists, Turns, and Traps

Carlos (Boy #3) sighed as his hand rested on the doorknob to the apartment. He had resided safely in this building for over eleven hours and here he was about to leave.

_What the hell am I thinking?_

He sighed but didn't move from the spot. Already he had put off leaving twice, and he knew sooner or later he did need to leave this place.

_I don't stand a chance if I stay here._

Finding the resolve inside him, Carlos took a deep breath and held it pushing the door open. He didn't step into the hallway immediately, instead he remained in his room and cautiously peeked out. He didn't see or hear anyone and after a minute, Carlos entered the hallway and for the first time since the very beginning of the game he was once again thrust into to reality of The Program.

He moved slowly, creeping along the hallways and peering around corners. He breathed slowly, making sure to make as little noise as possible. And every time he determined the area to be clear, a wave of relief washed over him. The feelings he had felt so early in the game rushed back to him, nearly making him run back into the apartment and lock the door behind him. But his courage pushed him further and soon he was outside.

The air was surprisingly fresh to Carlos. He expected the air to overbearing heavy, weighted down with fear and death. But the air was as it always was, life giving and soft. Carlos stood outside the building and let the air fill his lungs as if it somehow calmed him. A lazy smile crossed his face as the fear seemed to drip off his figure. He exhaled and took a few steps forward. He walked south heading straight for the woods ahead of him. He didn't even notice her until she plowed into him.

Carlos was caught completely by surprise and was pushed back by her figure. She shrieked in pure terror and her small frame was thrown back. Her Uzi clattered to the ground and she immediately grabbed hold of it. Beth (Girl #1) looked up at the boy who stared down at her. Carlos saw the gun in her position and instantly the air became heavy. In that second it became impossible to breathe, the air too thick to be absorbed. Tears streamed down Beth's face as she grabbed the gun with both hands.

Carlos' mind rushed back to the file he had read on the girl in front of him. She arguably had the best weapon in the game and her conclusion had been clear.

_A very early elimination by a more ambitious contestant looking for the superior firepower._

Carlos remembered how weak and fragile Beth had looked back in the classroom. But with that gun she didn't look very weak anymore.

"Not me!" Beth screeched and she aimed the gun at Carlos' chest from the ground. Her finger moved the trigger and Carlos realized he was about to be eliminated from the game. He was about to die. He quickly swung his foot up, knocking the gun away so that it pointed away from his body. Beth cried out in surprise and pulled the trigger as the bullets splashed into a building behind Carlos. Instantly Carlos took off into the forest, his duffel bag nearly slipped off his shoulder. He heard Beth cry out again and heard the gun go off, but Carlos continued running. He ran until he tripped over a protruding root and he face planted into the hard dirt.

He gasped for breath on the forest floor, scared out of his mind, but very much alive. He felt no pain either, almost completely sure that he avoided all the bullet fire. He lay on the ground and remained there for a while, once again breathing in the air that kept him alive, free of fear. Free of death.

* * *

It was time. She had been hiding there for a good amount of time, but she needed to leave now before she was trapped inside this area for the rest of the game. Samantha (Girl #8) carefully crawled out from her hiding spot from a cubicle inside the large office building. She reached into her duffel bag and pulled out her designated weapon, a box of tacks, for protection. She was sure that they'd serve no real purpose, but just holding them made Samantha feel better.

She cautiously crept around the office, listening for any noise but heard nothing. Finally she made it to the large atrium where the elevators were located. She glanced over the side and saw the pool of Joshua's (Boy #1) blood at the very bottom, on the lobby floor. Her thoughts drifted to the very small interaction she had with Joshua when something odd struck her.

_His body's gone._

She leaned over a bit further to locate the body, but was unable to see it.

_That psycho must have taken it._

She shivered slightly, but noticed that a pair of footprints that originated from Joshua's now dried blood that lead out of the building. They were his, Samantha was sure of that. And that meant that he was gone. Long gone.

Samantha leaned back and looked off the side. She saw a large amount of pieces of cubicles piled high in front of some doorway. Samantha realized that it was the door that lead to the stairwell. She realized that if she had tried to make a run for it when he was looking for her, she would have been unable to take the stairs. And she would have died while waiting for the elevator to reach the top floor. She breathed heavily at what could have happened, and walked over to the elevators and pushed the button to go down. The elevator slowly made its way up. It finally reached the top and for the second time in her life, Samantha was shocked to see that someone was already in it.

Samantha screamed in terror at seeing the boy standing there holding the bloody scythe. She heaved the box of tacks at him and the sharp projectiles flew all over him. He cried out in surprise as Samantha could only stare on in terror. He pulled his hands away from his face and Samantha saw several cuts along his hands and one along his face.

"You insist on adding to my pain!" he roared as he swiftly moved toward her. He slid the scythe into his pocket and lunged at her throat with both if his hands. They wrapped around her neck and squeezed tightly. Samantha tried to scream, to fight back, but she remained frozen as the air refused to enter her lungs. She grabbed at his wrists, trying to pull his hands away, but they remained firm. Her vision blurred with tears as her mouth opened in a mute scream. And just as soon as everything went black, the tension was gone. Air rushed into her lungs and she coughed and sputtered as she breathed deeply. She wondered why she could breathe again, when she felt it. Arms wrapping around her body, lifting her up from the ground. Her head swam from dizziness but she could make out the railing that looked out into the atrium. She felt a push and she was thrown up against it. Still coughing she spun and saw him standing there standing before her. Why hadn't he killed her?

He said nothing, but instead, approached her. He flung a fist into her stomach and the air left her again, and then another push. And soon she felt as light as air. She continued to watch him, but for some reason, she was moving away from him. The air rushed all around her, filling her lungs so that Samantha could do one final thing before she died. Scream.

* * *

The boy watched her hit the hard marble floor far below him. She could have survived it if she had landed feet first and merely snapped her spine instead. But he had heard the cracking of her skull as she met the lobby floor and she wasn't moving at all – no more screams, no more tears, nothing. She had suffered enough – he had made sure of that. For making him wait and for the scratches she gave with those stupid tacks. Nearly squeezing the life out of her and then tossing her over the edge, yes she had suffered plenty.

He walked back into the elevator and pressed the button to go down. The soft bell resounded through the empty office building. He glanced at the watch he had been given and then at his map. He still had time to get out before block 4 went danger zone, but he'd have to hurry.

He thought back to when he had blocked the stairwell door. He knew she'd have to take the elevator then, and that was when he'd be able to capture her. But there was the chance that the other elevator would go to get her. But he had seen to that also.

The doors opened and the boy looked over to see the body of Joshua lodged into the opening of the other elevator, preventing it from closing and going anywhere. He looked over at his footprints leaving the building, and how he had merely taken off his shoes before reentering and hiding himself in the elevator. Yes, it had been a very well placed trap, and one that had worked successfully, even though it had taken longer to occur.

_Still so many others to suffer._

And the boy took off to escape before block 4 closed him off from the rest of the contestants.

* * *

Ariana (Girl #18) slowly opened the door and stared at the gorgeous, familiar-looking woman who stood before her. She was sure she had never met this woman before, but there was something so…similar about her that Ariana merely stood in the doorway to her house and said nothing.

"Well, hey there." The woman smiled and cooed softly, "You must be Ariana."

Ariana just nodded.

"Yeah, you look exactly as I did when I was your age. I bet the boys never leave you alone. How old are you now?"

"Fifteen."

"Yup, developed early just like I did."

Ariana stared at the woman who stood before her. The similarities were very clear to her now. It was like looking through a portal into the future. She looked exactly like the woman who stood in the doorway. Exactly like her mother.

Ariana had always wondered what her mother had been like. Her father refused to speak of her and Ariana had to rely on her imagination, until she found she no longer cared about what her mother was like. After all, that knowledge wasn't necessary for the progression of her mind. And Ariana found herself slightly upset when she wondered why her mother was not in her life. She had often wondered if her mother was still alive. But as she stared at the female frame in front of her, Ariana couldn't say that she was pleased with the woman who was her mother. Despite the cold air, Ariana's mother wore close to nothing. The clothes she did wear were tight, and gave everyone a full view if they looked close enough. Her face was doused in make up, and her hair clung to her head looking greasy from dubious sources. Ariana was quite sure that her mother was, in fact, a whore. But despite the disgust that Ariana had for her mother, she could deny that she was beautiful. Very beautiful, in fact.

"Who's at the door, Ariana?" her father stepped into view and froze at seeing the woman there. "Danielle."

Ariana was about to respond when she realized that for the first time in her life, her father was not referring to her by that name. She gazed over at her mother. The woman named Danielle.

"James, it's so good to see you again!" she purred and walked past Ariana planting a kiss on James' cheek. The lipstick left an ostentatious mark on his pale face. "I can't believe what a great job you're doing raising our daughter. Isn't she beautiful? She looks just like me!"

Ariana watched her two parents interact. Her mother clearly had no mind about her. She knew about as much as Ariana did when she was eight. And yet, she was the one leading the conversation. Her father, with all the knowledge he possessed was powerless in Danielle's presence. And it was in this moment, Ariana saw it. Her father had said that she was ugly, but that was only because she resembled her mother, who used her body over her mind. The mind wasn't the only force at work in human beings. Used properly, even her body could be used. She had seen how the boys at school had noticed her.

"So why have you come here, Danielle?" Ariana's father asked.

"Oh James, you know how it is for me. Business always slows down when I can't be out in the streets looking for…patrons." She added a smirk.

"Is that supposed to make me want to help you?" James scowled.

"Don't be jealous, James. You'll always be my favorite. After all, you're the only one who ever decided to keep the…gift I made for them."

Both adults looked over at Ariana for a moment and the odd smile that was on her face.

"How much do you need?" James pulled out her checkbook and Danielle cooed with delight. The check was written and Danielle tucked it away in her bosom.

"You know, when men give me money, they usually ask for something in return." Danielle placed a soft kiss on his other cheek, leaving another lip mark.

Ariana left her parents alone and her mind raced to all the new possibilities before her. She'd have to learn how to do it the correct way, but she'd master this body of hers. Her father had been right – her mind was important and her body would deteriorate. But before it got that far, she'd use it to the best of her ability to give herself every opportunity to enhance her mind.

Ariana closed herself in her room, glancing into her closet at her wardrobe. She picked through a few things, and tossed them onto her bed. She picked out the clothes that would best display her new found use in her body. She wondered what her mother would have chosen. Ariana considered asking her mother for some advice, when the sounds of her parents reached her ears. She glanced back at the clothes on the bed. Maybe it was worth her time talking with her mother at least once. Who better could explain to her the uses of the body? Ariana giggled at the thought of asking her mother for advice as she undressed and examined her naked body in the mirror.

_Mind and body._"We should get moving." Mitchell (Boy #24) said to Ariana, "There are probably other people out there for us to meet up with."

* * *

"Meet up with?" Ariana asked innocently.

"Yeah, you know, other people who aren't playing."

"Do you think they're really out there?"

"Sure!" Mitchell smiled, "I got two friends out there somewhere – Shaina (Girl #12) and Minh (Boy #6). And I'm sure there are others who are looking for allies or maybe even a way out."

_I'll never get that gun if we're in a big group. I've got to make my move now._

"As long as I'm with you, I don't care who else I'm with." Ariana purred wrapping herself around Mitchell's body. She planted a kiss on his cheek and surveyed the area. The ground was slightly dirty, but twigs and rocks covered the rest of the ground. There was no real ideal place in the area to have sex, but that was the only way she could get the gun from his pocket - by making him take his pants off. She listened for any movement, but after she determined that they were alone, Ariana turned her attention back to the blushing Mitchell. She leaned up to kiss him and seal his doom. She was shocked when he turned his head.

"Listen, Ariana, I know you're grateful for me saving your life." He pried her from his body, "But you don't have to do this."

"But I want to." She cooed and leaned in to kiss him again. Again he turned his head.

"Look, Ariana. The truth is I'm not attracted to…you." She hid her surprise as she backed away and looked at him.

_Well, I didn't see this coming. Even the statistics were too small to take into account._

"There's something…wrong with the way I look?" Ariana pouted.

"No!" Mitchell said, "You're very beautiful! I'm just not…attracted to you."

_I don't believe it. There's no way…_

"You mean…you're…"

"Gay?" Mitchell chuckled slightly and smirked, "Yup."

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 28, 41, 64

Pending danger zones: 25, 31

(34) Contestants remaining


	18. Incubation

"Want some?" Connor (Boy #4) extended a piece of his dehydrated beef jerky to the girl in his presence. Her face wrinkled in disgust and she turned away.

"No thanks." Leslie (Girl #25) replied staring out toward the horizon. They sat on the beach together staring out at the glistening ocean as it lapped at the sand as if trying to pull the entirety of the beach into its salty depths. And if you happened upon the scene, you'd certainly think that the setting was very peaceful, if not utterly romantic. And you'd guess that the boy and girl had come here on some sort of date, if there wasn't a four foot gap separating their reclining bodies.

Connor inhaled slowly, taking in the sea air and letting himself drift away to distant places, places he'd much rather be than where he was. He glanced over at Leslie who appeared to be completely ignoring him and then looked back out in front of him sighing deeply. He was glad that he finally had someone to be with, but maybe he could have chosen someone who was a little more talkative or cheerful or nice. Leslie was a good ally and she seemed like she could protect herself and possibly him with ease. But she was short-tempered and very harsh. But still, one friend was better than none. Now if only he could find one friend.

"So, is there anyone out here that you know?" he asked her.

"Everyone is from the same school, you know that." Leslie spoke with a cold rational attitude that almost sounded condescending. But even after the small amount of time they had together, Connor had become used to her talking this way.

"I meant, do you have any friends or other people that you know we can trust."

"No. No one."

"No one at all? That's too bad. But on the other hand, that could be a good thing. I feel bad for the people who have friends and people they care about in the playing field with them."

"Why?"

"Because everyone is out there trying to survive, and in this game, surviving means killing everyone else – including your friends."

"Then we should feel lucky that we're not faced with that dilemma."

"I guess. I still feel bad for them, but in a way I envy them too."

Leslie looked over at the boy staring out at the waves. Her eyes narrowed in interest and she inched slightly closer as she continued their conversation.

"Why do you envy them?"

"I guess it's mostly because I…don't have many friends."

Leslie said nothing so Connor continued.

"My dad's in the army, so we get moved around a lot. He's moving pretty quickly up the ranks, which is good, but with each new promotion comes a new job in a new place. And I always hated saying goodbye to the friends I had made because I knew our friendship wouldn't last – it never did. Phone numbers were lost, letters were sent to old addresses, emails were never returned. It didn't make any sense for me to make friends if we were only going to move again and then the friendship meant nothing."

He paused.

"So in a way, I made it easier for myself to leave because I'd have no connections to anyone, it was just another location to me. But I'd always feel bad about being left out and not having anyone my own age to spend time with. But I guess, in a sense, that for once I'm lucky that I didn't take the time to get to know anyone, because I'd be really worried about what would happen to them during The Program."

Leslie said nothing but instead realized she was leaning toward Connor as she listened to him talk. She leaned back and stared out where the sky met the water. She breathed deeply and stole a glance at Connor who seemed to be completely lost in thought.

"If it's any consolation, I don't think you've been wrong in the way you've been living your life."

"You don't?" Connor was surprised. He looked over at her and saw the hard glare in her eyes.

"Most people are weak and not worth getting hurt over. You shouldn't feel bad about having no one - relying on yourself only makes you stronger."

"I didn't say I had no one." Connor said quickly, "My parents have done they're best to be there for me. And I get to see my older brother from time to time also – he's in the service too. I've still got my family."

Leslie didn't say anything. They sat in silence for a little while.

"You know, you don't seem to like people very much." Connor said and before Leslie could tell him to mind his own business he continued, "And I can't help but wonder why someone like you who's got superb fighting skills, no attachments to anyone here, and a general intolerance for all people wouldn't be playing her all to win The Program."

Again silence resumed. But more was going on than met the eye. Inside Leslie, a knot formed in her gut. Her muscles tensed and relaxed and tensed again. Her eyes widened slightly and the crashing waves could not overpower the sound of the sirens that swam inside her head. The beautiful horizon couldn't blind her to the flowing of blood off her hands. And the smell of the ocean couldn't block the stench of sweat, blood, and alcohol. But the presence of Connor prevented Leslie from losing control. She wouldn't let him see her weakness. And deep inside her the beast slept, its bloody claws and razor fangs harmlessly kept to itself, where they could do no harm.

"I will not kill." She said simply. She said it without force and with no hardness in her face. Connor stared at her almost in awe as the sun shone on her, glistening off her hair and nearly silhouetting her figure onto the sand. He had noticed how pretty she was when he had first seen her, but it was at this moment that he caught a glimpse of the real Leslie, and she was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen in his life. She looked over at him and stared into his eyes as his breath was completely stolen from his body. He felt his body sway a little, but he didn't break the stare as she spoke one more time.

"I will not kill." And just as suddenly as it had come, the coldness returned and Leslie stood up brushing the sand from her legs.

"Let's get moving." She said, "It's not safe for us to stay out in the open like this for much longer."

Connor realized that he hadn't been breathing and gasped for air as he stood up as well. Leslie walked off toward the forest and Connor found himself following close behind her, the image of her sitting in the sand looking into his eyes, still fresh in his mind.

* * *

Genevive (Girl #21) looked over at Ron (Boy #8) and began speaking.

"Okay, so I've identified many parts to these collars already. Some were really easy like the life monitoring apparatuses here, here, and…here." She pointed them out as she continued, "The self-destruct part of the collars was very confusing but I've narrowed it down and I believe that the bombs have several triggers, any of which can set off the entire necklace."

She looked over at the boy and he nodded, so Genevive continued.

"However, there is still a lot of electronics here that I haven't been able to figure out. I think that some of it may just be red herrings that set off the detonators, but I can't be sure of that without risking blowing it up."

"And after that one right there, the only one we have left it the one from Marty's (Boy #25) corpse." Ron said. They both glanced over at the boy that used to be trying to escape along with them. That used to be alive. They didn't say anything for a minute.

"Who do you think killed him?" Genevive said.

"A girl."

"A girl, really? Why do you say that?"

"The…uh…injury he has."

"But he was shot in the head."

"And his other head was nearly bit clean off."

Genevive sighed and returned to the collar near her. She had really done a good job of cleaning it out, since she had had plenty of practice on the other three collars she had worked on. Truthfully she wasn't too upset about Marty's death, since she hadn't really trusted him that much anyways. And she did have another collar to work on now, in case the fourth exploded. If only she could find out how to take the collars off.

Ron pulled out his watch and checked the time. He almost couldn't believe it – another hour and a half and two more areas would become danger zones. Time seemed to be dragging slowly onward but at the same time, already 14 hours had passed by. And in that time Ron had found his "friends", found a dead body, injured another contestant (who still appeared to be alive despite the nail deep in his shoulder), found Genevive, and now both of his companions were dead – one by his own hand and the other by some unforeseen contestant. He never would have guessed that this would be the way The Program would play out for him.

And no matter where their minds wandered, both Genevive and Ron both wondered who took out Marty and if that person was still in the area. Genevive kept the machete close by her as she worked on the collars with the box cutter and Ron gripped the nail gun a little tighter.

* * *

Nathan (Boy #19) slowly walked through the forest keeping his eyes and ears open. There was still so much ground to cover and still so many contestants out there. As far as he was concerned, Nathan had seen the best and the worst of the contestants – those who nearly killed him, and those who saved his life. Everyone else would most likely fall somewhere in between them, but he knew there was the chance that he'd run into someone worse. Someone who was playing – and someone who was good at it.

A sudden rush of air caught Nathan by surprise. He stopped and glanced behind him but he didn't see anything. However, a knot formed in his stomach and he knew something was wrong. Another rush of wind and suddenly a slender piece of wood protruded from the tree next to him. He pulled the piece of wood out and examined the tip and the wings on the end.

_An arrow?_

He glanced over and saw him standing there. The large wooden contraption was held out straight, aimed straight for Nathan's head. The other hand clutched another arrow, ready to be loaded once the one in the crossbow was shot. A flashing smile. The crossbow released and Nathan ducked as the arrow sailed over his head, missing him by inches. Paul (Boy # 21) quickly tried to load the other arrow, but Nathan saw the hesitation and took off. Paul quickly tossed the crossbow and arrow into his duffel bag and pulled out his hunting knife and chased Nathan through the woods.

Nathan breathed heavily as he ran for his life, dodging obstacles and ducking around trees. But whenever he glanced behind him, he saw Paul gaining on him. Nathan broke through the line of tree and bunch of houses scattered in front of him. The perfect hiding places. He took off past the first few houses, darting around them and using them for cover. Paul leapt out of the forest too, his eyes searching for his prey. He took the time to put away his knife and pull out the crossbow again, loading it before moving forward.

Nathan tried to quiet his breathing as he leaned up against one house. He slowly moved around it, not spying Paul anywhere. He glanced behind him and quietly tugged one of the windows open before raising himself up on his arms. His injured shoulder screamed in pain, but he didn't make a sound as he pushed himself through the window and silently closed it behind him. He breathed softly and sat directly beneath the window as he calmed himself down.

A sudden shadow appeared over him. He nearly gasped as he realized that Paul was looking inside the windowjust abovehim. His breath caught in his throat and he froze, remaining hidden just below the vision of his would-be murderer. Slowly the shadow left and Nathan exhaled, nearly collapsing in exhaustion.

* * *

"Damn." Paul cursed quietly. He had lost that other boy, and he was very aware of it too.

_He wasn't even armed and I let him get away._

Well, he was pretty sure that he was hiding out somewhere in one of these houses. He'd just search them until he found his prey. And who knows – maybe there were some other potential victims hiding in these houses too.

* * *

"How you holding up?" Larry (Boy #9) asked the girl slightly behind him that clutched his hand tightly.

"I'm okay." Lauren (Girl #16) smiled weakly. Despite the nap she had taken, fatigue ate its way at her. She couldn't even imagine how tired Larry was, but if he was, he sure wasn't showing it. They continued along hand-in-hand while Larry carried his designated weapon in his other hand – brass knuckles. But he might as well have been given Lauren's weapon, a rubber band. He was athletic, but he was no fighter. In fact, he was quite sure that the first person he ran into would take them both out.

_I can't let that happen. I'll protect Lauren with everything I've got. She'll win The Program if it kills me._

The irony in his thoughts almost made Larry smile, but then when he finally realized what would have to happen, Larry sighed deeply. But he wouldn't change his mind. Lauren would live – he would make sure of it.

Lauren smelled it first. The stench was heavy and putrid, entering the nose and remaining there. She almost felt like gagging but she held herself back. Larry wasn't as lucky and vomited a little of the food he had eaten a little while ago.

"What is that?" Larry coughed. They stumbled into the small clearing and the question was answered. Bodies lined the ground, dismembered and bloody. Lauren gasped in shock and stepped behind Larry until her eyes fell on two bodies in front of them. Two bodies who were still alive. The boy stepped forward, holding some large contraption in his hand and aiming it at the two. The girl on the ground leapt to her feet and held a cutting object in each hand.

Larry's eyes darted to the two people in front of him to the many bodies on the ground and his thoughts raced.

_They've killed all these people! They'll kill us too!_

"Don't move." The boy said stepping toward them.

Lauren cringed behind her boyfriend, tears forming in her eyes. This was it, they were both going to die right here.

He stood in front of them, grabbing hold of both of their duffel bags and searched through them. He pulled out Lauren's rubber band and with a look of disgust, tossed it into the forest around them. He looked through the other bag and not finding the weapon, saw it on Larry's hand. The girl with him remained motionless. He turned to her.

"No gun. They didn't kill Marty."

"What?" Larry gasped. The girl lowered her machete and box cutter, and looked over at the couple in their midst.

"So," Genevive walked over to them, "How do you guys feel about escaping this hell?"

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 28, 41, 64

Pending danger zones: 25, 31

(34) Contestants remaining


	19. Incubation part 2

Bruce (Boy #23) sighed as he stared down at his map. Silently he traced his steps on the paper, marking the areas he had searched. He had thoroughly traversed through the majority of the western part of the wooded area and had not run across a single person. He wondered where the hell everyone was. A moment of panic set in for a moment as Bruce imagined the rest of his friends' names being read off during the next set of announcements. He shook the thought away and exhaled deeply, trying to remove the fear from his mind. It worked, for the time being.

His thoughts drifted to Kara (Girl #24). She was terrified – of that Bruce was sure. She never liked scary movies, the anticipation of the impending doom caused her to stir uncomfortably and what was The Program but one huge scary movie? Kara always liked to have someone nearby during scary movies so that she could cling on to them and feel secure as actors took part in elaborate death scene. Bruce always liked being that person, smiling to himself as she pressed herself against him and squealed with fright as she buried her face in his arm. He wondered if there was anyone there with her now, someone for her to feel safe with.

Bruce put his map away and pulled out his compass. East was the direction to go now. There was no one on the west end of the playing field; he'd have to try elsewhere. Cautiously but quickly Bruce swept through the forest, constantly on the lookout for movement, constantly on the prowl for contestants, constantly in search of his family.

* * *

Kara (Girl #24) lugged along her heavy duffel bag. It hung from her shoulder and a large round object protruded from the bottom, trying to force the bag to ground and Kara along with it. She sighed and finally gave up, dropping the bag and plopping herself down beside it. She unzipped it and pushed her designated weapon, a large bowling ball, to the side and pulled out a water bottle. She took a swig and contemplated getting rid of the heavy sphere if only to make the bag heavier to carry, but then she'd be completely defenseless. True, the bowling ball wasn't the greatest weapon, in fact it wasn't even a good one, but it was one nonetheless. And if it came down to it, she may need it.

She glanced at her map and saw that she was very far west, but she luckily south enough so that she wouldn't be in trouble when block 25 went danger zone. But there was still some time before that happened. However, even though Kara was safe, she was upset she hadn't found Bruce. That girl from the window had told her that Bruce was here in the western part of the forest area, and yet she still hadn't seen him. More than anything at that moment, Kara wanted to find Bruce. She always felt safe when he was around, and it had nothing to do with his fighting skills. Kara could feel it somehow; Bruce would never let anything hurt her, and whenever she was close to him, she could feel his protection washing over her and carrying her away. And she loved him for it. But despite all she felt for him, Kara was always worried what would happen if she told him how she felt. It's not as if she could say that she always wanted to be near him without sounding strange. And then there was that fear that he didn't feel the same way towards her. Kara would not risk their friendship, not until she was sure that he felt the same way about her.

"Kara?" a voice rang out through her thoughts, shattering her quiet contemplation and shoving the reality of The Program back into her face. She reached into her bag and slid her slender fingers into the three small holes in the bowling ball. She tugged it out and swung it around her as a warning to anyone close by.

"Calm down, Kara!" the boy fell back and held a hand up as meager protection. Kara slowed and the voice finally registered. Her arm hung by her side as she turned and spied the boy on the ground.

"It's me." Justin (Boy #18) winced on the ground as he stared up at his friend.

"Justin." Kara sighed and dropped the bowling ball with a loud thud. She dropped to the ground as tears welled in your eyes. "Thank God it's you." She leaned forward and wrapped her friend in a large hug. He smiled warmly and returned the hug welcoming the embrace of Kara. The fear and anxiety that had been eating away at the both of them slowly left them as the two friends found sanctuary with each other. A part of Kara still wanted to find Bruce, but for the moment, she was happy that she had found someone she could stay with.

The hug lasted for nearly fifteen minutes.

* * *

"I'm sick of sitting here!" April (Girl #15) complained, "We should be out there, looking for other people to join us or looking for an escape!"

"Give it a rest." Kim (Girl #17) shot back, "I told you already, we've found some shelter and we're going to wait out the game here."

"And since when do you decide what the group does?" April said. She looked around the apartment to the three other girls present. "We're going to die if we stay here all alone! Sooner or later someone is going to come and get us. And if they don't then what happens when it's just us left?"

"We should just take things as they come." Naomi (Girl #11) spoke up.

"What kind of plan is that?" April cried out, "And besides, people are dying out there!"

"Better them than us." Kim said coldly.

"That makes us just as bad as the people who are playing." April said, "We're letting them die out there. Just like we let Cassie (Girl #4) die!"

The air was sucked out of the room and Taryn (Girl #3) winced. Gloria (Girl #22) glanced away.

"We didn't let Cassie die." Naomi said, "We couldn't find her in time. We were out looking for her, we just couldn't find her."

"It's our fault she died! If we had found her sooner, then she'd still be alive!" April said.

"It's out of our hands." Kim sneered, "We didn't find her. And someone got to her first. That's not our fault."

"It's not?" April asked, "She was our friend and she's dead now because she wasn't with us. Sounds like our fault to me."

"Think what you want." Kim replied, "But I'm not going to blame myself because some murderous fuck took Cassie out."

"Well you think what you want," April snorted, "But I refuse to let anyone else die because we weren't there to help them."

"Are you retarded?" Kim spat, "You wanna go out there where people are looking to kill you – for what? To bring more people here? And then what? We're still in the same situation as before!"

"Maybe not. Maybe we can rally everyone together, get them all working to trying to escape! We have some really smart people with us in this playing field, we can-"

"Smart people with weapons! We have no reason to go help them out."

"They're people too!" April screamed. Her voice echoed in the small room and everyone glanced at her as she breathed heavily, "We're all people here. Everyone stuck in this game is a person. And no person deserves what The Program demands of us. No one."

Silence settled over the girls. Gloria examined them all as April's words sunk in. Of course, she thought that it was all bullshit, but she'd give anything to get out of the apartment. She'd had no opportunities to get Naomi's neck collar device, and as things were going, she never would. At least out in the field something unexpected could happen – something that would give Gloria the chance she needed. The chance to end everyone else in the room, just like she had ended their friend.

"Why not vote?" April suggested, "Majority rules. I'll stay if I'm the only one thinking this way."

"…..fine." Kim replied after some hesitation, "Who else wants to stay here where it's safe and not go out getting ourselves killed?" She raised her hand. She looked around at each of the other girls. Naomi slowly raised her hand also. April smiled triumphantly.

"Who wants to go out and find other people to join us and look for an escape?" April instantly stuck her hand in the air and was satisfied when Gloria did the same. All four girls glanced over at the only girl who had not voted either way: Taryn.

"Well, Taryn?" April asked. The small girl's eyes swept the room and then fell to the ground. She pictured Cassie's smiling face and heard her voice speaking kindly to her. Cassie was dead, and Taryn still mourned her. Deep inside, she had truly felt guilty for Cassie's death, just like April had said. She had been unable to save Cassie. She sighed deeply and then spoke.

"Let's go."

* * *

Blocks 25 and 31 went danger zone, coming very close to claiming a group of four – two lovers and a boy and girl thrown together thanks to their common goal of escape, but nearly dying doesn't count in The Program. Only death matters here.

* * *

"You're trying to escape?" Lauren (Girl #16) asked.

"You bet." Genevive (Girl #21) replied, "The collars are the key to escaping. If we can get them off, then we can leave."

"And you've been taking apart collars from corpses?" Larry (Boy #9) said.

"We found them here." Ron (Boy #8) explained and pointed to two bodies, "Except those two. They came with me, but didn't see the fringe benefits of escape over playing the game."

Lauren glanced down at the bodies and doubt slowly crept into her mind, as the nurse inside her took over. These two claimed that they wanted to leave, but who knows where those bodies truly came from. Although, if they wanted to kill her and Larry, they certainly had the superior weaponry to do so. But things didn't seem to add up completely – one boy looked like he was shot, but she couldn't see any gun. Except for that nail gun, but that wouldn't cause the same damage as a bullet. It would create a nasty wound though, much like the one she had seen on that other boy she had found in the forest. Yes, that wound was very curious when she thought about it. Everything seemed innocent enough here, but things could get out of hand very quickly.

"So, you in?" Ron asked the pair.

Larry turned the thought over in his head. Escape was a lot more preferable to death, since he was going to make sure that Lauren was the winner. This way they both would be able to stay alive. It seemed too good to be true. He looked over at Lauren who seemed a bit skeptic.

"I'll stay if you want." She said to him. He glanced back at the boy and girl surrounded by dead bodies and wiring and electronics.

"We're in." Larry replied.

"Good." Genevive replied. And after introductions were made, the group settled down and watched as all their hopes were placed in one girl who was doing her best to remove the collars.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 64

Pending danger zones: none

(34) Contestants remaining


	20. Announcements part 3

"_A very disappointing time it is, my little warriors. Only three eliminations in the last six hours? What happened to all that ambition I saw in the earlier hours? Let's hope it's all still there, since that record is still very much in reach. Now then, on to the dead. First we have Girl # 12 – Shaina. Remember contestants, it's not always the stronger person who wins, weapons play a major role in The Program. Next we have Girl #10 – Janelle, sliced and diced with her own weapon. How suspicious… And finally we have Girl #8 – Samantha who took a long walk off a short balcony. How surprising, all young females. Come on ladies, show our audience how it's done. On to the danger zones. My superiors tell me that too many danger zones may be inhibiting some of you from playing at your full potential, so there will only be three upcoming danger zones during this announcement. But if we don't see a rise in body count, then mark my words, the danger zones will increase greatly, and we will be aiming for those of you who think that staying in one spot is the best decision. Now then, following this announcement, block 10 will immediately become a danger zone. In two hours, at 8 tonight, block 48 will become a danger zone and two hours after that at 10, block 61 is forbidden. I will return at midnight tonight, marking the completion of the first day. Depending on what happens, you may not ever hear me speak again. Here's to hoping that includes many of you. Good evening little warriors."_

* * *

Ariana (Girl #18) sighed as she continued along behind Mitchell (Boy #24). The announcements had been disappointing to her as well, since it meant that she had been in the company of this boy for six hours, and it had been a long six hours. She racked her brain for any plot to remove the gun from the boy, but all were entirely too risky. And she wouldn't try to fight him outright, since she more than anyone knew the cost of battles. So far she'd been cut, her arm fractured, been handcuffed and raped, and she had no intention of adding "shot" to that list. No, she had to do this right.

"How you holding up?" Mitchell looked over her shoulder and asked her as they continued along.

"Fine." She forced the biggest smile she could and then scowled at the back of his head when he turned back. She needed that gun and she needed it now. Her hand tightened around her tire iron and one of the handcuffs clinked metallically against it. She considered taking it to the back of his head, but if she didn't knock him out completely, he'd surely turn and fire, which would be the end of her. Her hand tightened some more but Ariana kept it where it was.

Rustling suddenly caught her attention. She froze and listened intently, determining the direction from her position. Mitchell stopped in his tracks as well, glancing behind him to ensure Ariana had heard the noise as well. She nodded and together they crept off in the direction of the rustling.

They moved slowly pushing bushes out of the way and soon they saw him, a boy rummaging in a duffel bag. He pulled empty wrappings from the bag and tossed them behind him as he dived deeper. To his side, she lay. Her body was contorted in an awkward position, many deep cuts to her stomach and the ground was stained with her dark red dried blood.

"Freeze!" Mitchell yelled as he emerged from the bushes aiming his semi automatic at the boy. The boy cried out and stumbled back raising his arm in defense.

"No! Please don't kill me!" Matt (Boy #20) cried out, "I didn't kill her, I was only looking for extra food and water, I swear!"

Ariana emerged from the shrubbery as well. She saw the boy had no blood on his clothes, and that alone was enough proof that he had not killed her. In fact, if she wasn't mistaken, as she never was, the girl on the ground was Janelle (Girl #10), and she had been killed with her own weapon. That meant a big battle went on here, and subsequent battle scars. The boy in front of them had not killed her. Ariana glanced at Mitchell who glared hard at the stranger in their midst. He was completely caught in the moment, solely focusing on Matt.

_This is my chance!_

Ariana slowly slipped behind Mitchell and grasping her ice pick, lifted it and jabbed deep into the back of his neck. Matt gasped from where he stood as Mitchell cried out and began gurgling on the blood gathering in his throat. Moving quickly, Ariana moved to Mitchell's side and struck the arm that held the gun, knocking the weapon to the ground. She swung her arm back, connecting the tire iron to Mitchell's face and sending him sprawling to the ground. Ariana quickly knelt and grabbed the gun, fully appreciating the hunk of metal in her hand. She glanced over at Matt who had taken off. She aimed and fired a shot, nailing Matt in the small of the back. He cried out and fell to the ground. Ariana smirked and turned her attention on the boy squirming on the ground as he pulled out the ice pick from his neck. He coughed up blood and began breathing heavier. He looked up as Ariana loomed over him, the gun pointed at his head.

"Thanks for the gun." Ariana smirked as she grasped the trigger and Mitchell's body convulsed as the bullet ripped through his grey matter. "It's not like I didn't deserve it after wasting so much time in your company." She spoke to the corpse before collecting her tire iron and ice pick and moving on to where she had seen Matt fall. She glanced around, checking for any sign of blood but could see none. She wondered where he was, since she was sure she had shot him, and he couldn't have gotten far with that injury. And then it hit her.

_There was no blood from when I shot him. Dammit, he's got the vest! He's alive and knows I'm playing._

Ariana sighed and pulled out her map. On the back she crossed off the name "Mitchell" and wrote "vest" next to Matt's name. She put her map away and immediately ran off in search of Matt before he ran into anyone else and could inform them of Ariana's intentions.

* * *

She was clearly the youngest one in the class. Most of the other students looked to be security guards or police officers or construction workers and other people of the like, looking to stay in shape and learning to fight at the same time. The burly man noticed her first, wondering if she was legal, and then determining that she wasn't. He then began wondering what a young girl was doing in a class like this.

"Okay, everyone gather around." The teacher brought everyone forward from their stretching exercises and pulled him forward. "This is Harold, and he just graduated from the level below us, so go easy on him for now." The teacher smiled and then continued, "As with tradition, the new guy must spar with someone from the class to get an idea of what he'll be learning here. Any takers?"

Harold was a very large man and his muscles rippled from just standing next to the teacher. He smiled a cocky smile and glared around the room for any challenge.

"I'll do it." Leslie (Girl #25) stepped forward. Harold snickered as the class glanced at each other with worried eyes.

"You're sure, Leslie?" the teacher asked, "You made your way through the first two levels pretty quickly, but you haven't been here too long. You really wanna go through with this?"

"Let her do it." One man spoke up and gave her a thumbs up, "Leslie's tougher than she looks."

The two of them fit on some small boxing gloves and mouth guards. Harold smirked as she loomed over the teenage girl. This was going to be fun.

"Begin." The teacher said. Immediately, Harold rushed forward and grabbed Leslie in a bear hug, overpowering her small frame. He hugged her close as she struggled to break free. He then jumped up and fell to the ground with Leslie beneath him. She cried out as he leaned down a placed a small kiss on her cheek. Her eyes widened as she shrieked in rage, the beast nearly moving inside her soul.She pulled her knee up, hitting Harold in the inner thigh. He lifted himself slightly up off her body as he prepared to fall on top of her again, but Leslie lifted both legs up and placed them on Harold's chest and kicked forward, throwing his large body off of her. The class cheered as Leslie jumped to her feet and rushed at Harold swinging a fist. She connected with his cheek and he was shocked that a small girl could hold so much power. He growled and returned with a punch of his own as he returned to his feet. Leslie easily dodged it and landed three swift punches before lashing out with her heel and shoving it deep into Harold's chest, knocking him back. Leslie lifted off and twisted her body in the air slamming her toes into his throat. He fell to the floor and Leslie landed on his stomach hard, causing the air to rush out of his body completely and the bloody mouth guard rushed out as well. Harold passed out right there, Leslie standing victorious on top of his burly body. And inside her, the beast stirred slightly, sensing the girl's potential.

"Weakling." She quietly hissed.

* * *

"Leslie, can I speak to you?" her teacher called to her after the class ended. She walked over to him after gathering her things and pulled out her water bottle and took a sip from it.

"Is it about the sparring match at the beginning of class?" she asked once they were alone.

"Yes. Your performance was very good – your technique was flawless and effective. It was the perfect example of how a smaller person can defeat a larger person in a fight. But my concern isn't your style, but rather how far you took the fight."

"What do you mean?"

"Harold was clearly defeated after that jump kick and yet you jumped on his stomach to ensure that he was down."

"I'm supposed to hold back in a fight?"

Her teacher paused for a moment.

"Leslie, do you remember when you first joined my self-defense program, and I asked you why you wanted to do so, what you said to me?"

"I want to become stronger."

"Exactly. Is that still your goal?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Do you understand that strength is more than just being able to fight? That there is more to strength than physical prowess?" She looked at him, examining him as he examined her. He continued, "Just losing yourself in the fight is not strength – it's barbaric, completely wild and uncontrollable." Leslie continued to say nothing. Her teacher sighed, "I hope you learn what I'm trying to tell you someday."

Leslie nodded and turned to go. Before she could leave the building however, her teacher spoke out one last time, "By the way, I'm glad to see that you've come in here with less bruises than you used to. And you've been dodging blows much more smoothly, almost as if you've been having practice out of class."

Again Leslie said nothing as she left the building.

* * *

"Are you okay?" Connor (Boy #4) asked as Leslie returned to reality.

"I'm fine." She responded coldly. She finished writing down the important information from the announcements and put her map away. Connor shrugged and took a sip from a water bottle before putting it away and standing.

"Ready to keep moving?" he smiled down at her. She didn't say anything, but stood as well, walking off.

"Leslie, if we go any further north, we may run into block 28, where the school's located. That's a danger zone – why don't we head east, there's some housing over there for us to maybe take shelter in when the sun goes down completely."

She stopped and sighed, pulling out her compass. She looked east and then began heading in that direction. Connor sighed himself, silently wishing that she would say more, and followed after her.

* * *

The large group of females waded through the foliage, looking for movement and listening for suspicious sounds. Kim (Girl #17) led the group, of course, and right behind her was Naomi (Girl #11) holding up her neck collar locator and examining it. April (Girl #15) and Taryn (Girl #3) walked closely behind the other two. Gloria (Girl #22) was the last one in the group. Her mind raced for a plan to grab the locator Naomi held and then make her escape.

"There's someone up ahead." Naomi's voice rang through the forest, despite the fact that she whispered. All the girls tensed and Gloria wondered if they had found Isaac (Boy #16). Slowly they continued forward and suddenly they saw him, sitting against a tree. He seemed to be gazing off into space, but as soon as they came closer, the boy turned his head and his eyes widened in fear.

"It's okay." April spoke up from the back, "We're looking for people to join us."

He glanced at them suspiciously and he stood up. He had seen them before, moving together as one giant group. They sure didn't look like a threat, but he'd need to be sure first.

"I'm April." She stepped forward smiling widely.

"I'm Carlos." Carlos (Boy #3) replied. He glanced at them all, trying his best to identify the girls by the weapons they were carrying. The girl in front who was scowling at him held a boomerang, and if he remembered correctly, that made her Kim.

"This is Kim." April began the introductions and Carlos smirked a little, "Taryn, Naomi, and Gloria. We're looking for a way to escape."

"Escape?" The word caught Carlos completely by surprise. He said it as if he had never heard it before and stared in disbelief at the group in front of him.

"Yeah!" Taryn chimed in, "We want to get out of this place."

"We sure do." April smiled as she interrupted, "We're trying to increase our ranks and then come up with some means of escape. Are you interested?"

Carlos was slightly taken aback. These girls were certainly putting a lot of trust in him, or at least some were. Kim and Naomi seemed to be very hesitant to add him.

"I don't know." Carlos said hesitantly.

"If you're worried about people attacking us, you don't need to worry! No one can sneak up on us with Naomi's tracker and Taryn's got some nun chucks and Gloria has some grenades for added protection.

_Grenades?_

Something didn't sound right to him. He frowned and dropped his back as he unzipped it. The girls gasped and took a few steps back as he rummaged around in his bag. They all winced as he produced a piece of paper.

"It says here that Gloria's designated weapon was a slingshot." He told them.

Gloria gasped.

"What?" Kim rushed forward grabbing the paper and glaring at Gloria.

"Yeah," Carlos continued and pulled out another piece of paper, "The grenades were the weapon of another girl, Girl #4 – Cassie."

The air left the surrounding area. They all stared down at Carlos and the papers he held and then over at Gloria. She tossed something over at the group and Taryn dropped her nun chucks to catch it. They watched as Gloria hissed at them with an evil smile, "Tell Cassie I said hi."

And she took off.

"After her!" Kim shrieked before glancing over at Taryn who held a small metal orb. "Get down!" she cried out and dived aside. April cried out and ran behind a tree, tugging Naomi with her. Carlos cursed out loud and took off in the opposite direction, leaving all the girls behind him. They had all taken shelter except Taryn whose eyes welled with tears. She glanced down at the grenade in her grasp and looked up at the vanishing figure of Gloria. She whispered one word.

"Cassie."

**BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!**

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 64

Pending danger zones: 48, 61

(32) Contestants remaining


	21. Aftershock

The explosion ripped through the area as everything was forced outward and then seemed to rush back into place. Debris flew everywhere and pieces of tree bark were ripped away from the blast. Carlos (Boy #3) was gone, as was Gloria (Girl #22). Kim (Girl #17) covered her head on the ground, slightly scratched but otherwise unaffected by the explosion. April (Girl #15) cautiously peered from behind the tree that had shielded her from the deadly force and Naomi (Girl #11) glanced out as well from behind April. And all that remained of poor Taryn (Girl #3) were some unidentifiable tissues and other body parts scattered throughout the forest floor.

Kim lifted her head, her face in pure shock. She shivered slightly as she noticed pieces of her friend that lay close to her and stood up quickly. Her shock was soon replaced with sadness over the death of Taryn, but all too quickly it was pushed aside and anger took its course.

"Fuck!" she cried out, "That fucking bitch! Fuck!"

April sighed deeply and dropped to the ground, the tears flowing freely. Taryn was gone, and there was nothing April could ever do to bring her back. She closed her eyes and tried to see her smiling face, but all April could see was the confused look on Taryn's face as she glanced down at the active grenade in her hands. She could only see the pain in her eyes at the news of learning what had happened to Cassie. She could only hear Taryn's final whisper before the grenade ate her alive.

"God damn it!" Kim cursed swearing profusely, "All this time, that bitch murdered Cassie and was with us. All this time! We trusted her when she had killed Cassie! And then she took Taryn from us too! That bitch is dead!"

"Enough, Kim." Naomi said forcefully stepping forward.

"Enough?" Kim roared back, "Enough what? Truth?" Kim leered over at April as she cried softly on her knees, "You see, April? This is what happens when you trust in The Program! This is what happens, when you decide to leave shelter to find other people to join us. Taryn is dead now!"

"This isn't April's fault!" Naomi yelled, "Gloria would have probably killed us all if we hadn't found out what she did. This isn't anyone's fault except hers!"

"Then why the fuck didn't she? What took her so long to toss the grenade?"

"When we found out, her hand was forced, there must have been some other reason why she was with us."

"You mean besides the sick and twisted irony?" Kim said, "I bet she cracked up on the inside every fucking time we brought up Cassie."

None of them said anything for a moment and the only sounds that could be heard were April's stifled sobs. Kim glared at the ground, fuming, and her hand tightened around the boomerang. Her only thoughts were those of pure hatred and she seethed silently, letting her anger grow. Naomi stood, her thoughts drifting from Taryn to the time they had all spent together in the playing field. She glanced down at the device she held.

"This." Naomi said, lifting it up. Both girls looked at her, "The neck collar locator. This is what Gloria wanted. She wanted this so that she could find victims more easily and play to her full potential. This device kept us alive – she was waiting until she could take this from us, and then we were dead."

"That bitch." Kim whispered through gritted teeth. April wiped her eyes and finally stood with her two remaining friends. The three all stood together, two members short of the group of friends they once were – two friends who were taken out by the same person.

"I don't know about you both," Kim stated, "But I'm ready to hunt her down and make her pay for what she did to Cassie and Taryn." April's initial look of horror slowly changed as she glanced back at the ground where Taryn once stood. Naomi looked down at her hand-held device.

"We'll have a better chance of tracking her down if we can identify which dot is her." Naomi said, "This one appears to be moving in the direction she was going." And without another word the three went in search of deadly Girl #22 – Gloria.

* * *

"Did you hear that explosion, Sal?" Luna (Girl #5) clung to his arm. Salvador (Boy #17) didn't respond but instead glanced back at the other two remaining members of his gang: TJ (Boy #12) and Sid (Boy #14). TJ glanced deep into the forest in the direction of the blast, looking for movement, while Sid said nothing and held his metal shield close to his chest, solely focusing on his leader, Salvador.

"Forget about it." Salvador said to the group, "We're armed pretty well, but not against explosives."

The group continued walking together and from the back, TJ glared at the only female in the group. He could see himself running forward and just shoving the dagger right through her neck, but he doubted he'd be alive much longer after that to appreciate the kill. Salvador would shoot at a moment's notice, and even if TJ could get the better of his leader, there was Sid there too, and who knew what the hell that kid was thinking. But no matter how hard he tried, his contempt for Luna would not pass. She had killed Janelle (Girl #10), there was no doubt of that, and yet she was still around. But if TJ killed her, he'd be as good as dead. How fair was that? She'd gotten away with murder, and she had Salvador completely wrapped around her finger. She was the true leader at this point, and that meant no one in the gang was safe.

Salvador stopped suddenly and glanced off into the distance.

"What is it, Sal?" Luna asked, "You hear some more explosions or something like that?"

"No. Something better." he smiled, "Voices."

* * *

"You feeling any better?" Justin (Boy #18) asked as Kara (Girl #24) returned and sat down next to him.

"Yeah, all this fear and anxiety – I was bound to vomit eventually."

Justin smirked and breathed deeply. Kara leaned up against in and rested her head on his shoulder out of pure fatigue. His face flushed and his heart began beating faster.

"I'll s-stand guard," Justin sputtered, "if you want to take a nap."

"I'm too scared to sleep."

"You know what's helped me up until this point?"

"What?"

"Remembering things from my life. You know, good memories and stuff."

Kara smiled and closed her eyes, taking in the security that she had been deprived of from the start of The Program.

"Like, you remember that time we all went to that restaurant for dinner and you got into a fight with the waitress?"

"She was a huge bitch." Kara said with a smile, "I don't feel bad that we got her fired."

Justin chuckled, "And then later we were at the arcade and I got challenged in DDR by that really skinny guy with the lisp?"

"You totally destroyed him too." Kara smiled wider.

"And then later…" Justin trailed off as his palms began to sweat. His heart was nearly beating out of his chest.

_Stop wasting time! You may never get this chance again. Grow some balls and tell her!_

"I remember," Kara sat up straight, "You were giving me a ride home…"

* * *

The music blared out of the car and both of them sang along with it.

"Have you ever met my friend Kyle's mom? She's the biggest bitch in the whole wide world. She's a mean old bitch and she has stupid hair, she's a bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, BITCH!"

Justin and Kara laughed hysterically as the song continued.

"Those guys who make South Park are the comedic geniuses of our time!" Justin laughed again and flipped on his blinker and spun the wheel to make the turn.

"Okay, it's time for some TLC." Kara said and grabbed the iPod.

"Come on!" Justin said with a sigh, "How about something better?"

"I could play some Britney instead."

"TLC's fine."

'Waterfalls' began to play and Justin merely smiled to himself as Kara sang the words along with the song. Just as the song ended, he pulled onto Kara's street. They approached the house and immediately Kara's expression changed.

"Oh no." she said.

"What's wrong?" Justin asked before he glanced at the house. Even from the car he could hear music pulsating from the domicile and many figures lined the windows.

"Looks like my brother's taking advantage of our parents being away tonight."

Justin parked the car on the street and got out of it along with Kara.

"You don't have to come in with me." Kara said.

"That's okay, I'll feel better if I do." Justin replied and they both went for the door.

They walked up the few steps and began to open the front door to enter.

"Who's there?" a burly boy stepped in the opening and glanced down at the two teens. "Beat it kids, this party's for adults only." He tried to close the door.

"Fuck you!" Kara said with spite in her voice, "I LIVE here, and if you don't let me in, I'll call the police to let them escort me into my HOME."

Justin took a step back, afraid of what the large man would do to that response. He glared at her and opened the door further, shadowing her in his large frame. She grabbed Justin's arm and literally pushed the man out of her way as she made her way inside. Loud music pulsed into Justin's ears as he followed behind Kara, her leading him by the sleeve.

"Kara!" a voice rang out suddenly and another boy older than Justin walked over to the pair. "Are you legal yet?" He guffawed and then took a sip of some dubious liquid.

"Funny, asshole," she replied, "Where's my brother? Where's Tony?"

"Tony?" he parroted her and stumbled slightly bumping into two other drunken people, "Tony was headed up to his room last time I saw him."

"Thanks." She responded and pushed by him once again leading Justin by the sleeve. They headed up the stairs past some people crowding the stairs. At the top, the music was lessened immensely and Justin was able to hear Kara speak to him without her having to yell.

"Once we find Tony, I'll tell him that I'm home and that I want the party to get broken up, or I'm calling the police, or worse, our parents." They stopped at one of the many closed doors and Justin glanced around nervously as two pairs of couples made out in the center of the hallway. Kara ignored them and pushed the door to her brother's room open.

"Tony, I-" she froze. From what Justin could see over her shoulder, Tony was hunched over some other form, his pants pulled to the floor. His face contorted in shock when he realized that the door was open. At first Justin was surprised at what he saw and then it turned to pure shock when he realized that he recognized the person who was engaging Tony in his room. Mitchell (Boy #24) gasped from his awkward position in front of Tony.

"GET OUT!" Tony screeched and threw something at the open door. Kara instantly closed it and stared dumbfounded at Justin who stared back at her.

"You can spend the night at my house if that makes you more comfortable." Justin told her.

* * *

"Thanks again for the extra clothes to sleep in." Kara said dressed in one of Justin's undershirts and boxer shorts.

"No problem." Justin smiled as his face grew warmer. He turned to leave the room to move into the living room, where he would be spending the night on the couch while Kara slept in his bed.

_If only we could share…_

He pushed the thought from his mind and reminded himself that Kara was his friend. However, that fact alone couldn't stop him from wishing for…more.

"And thanks for, you know, everything else." She said meekly. Justin turned and smiled warmly at her.

"No problem, what are friends for?" he winced as he spoke.

* * *

"That was such a strange night." Kara said glancing over at Justin, "But Tony hasn't thrown a party since then. And I've always got that incriminating piece of information to use against him – even though he hasn't given me a reason to do that yet."

_Even though I may never see Tony again._

Kara pushed the thought away. Justin looked over at her, admiring her features and feeling her presence surround him.

_For God's sake, tell her already! TELL HER!_

"Kara," he began and then his voice caught in his throat. She looked over at him and Justin looked back, unable to find the right words to say what his inside told him.

"You're one of my best friends." He forced out. Kara smiled at him.

"You're one of my best friends too." She responded.

"I know." He glanced down at the ground, his face turning a dark red, "Could…could we ever have…you know…been…more…than friends?"

She didn't understand at first. She looked at him, but he avoided her gaze at all costs. And as she prepared to answer him, she avoided his gaze as well.

"I really do care for you Justin," she said, "But as friends. And only as friends."

Justin winced, but he nodded. He knew this was coming. He had convinced himself for so long that there was nothing between Kara and Bruce (Boy #23) but he knew now more than ever that that was false.

"I understand." He replied in defeat. The silence was deafening. Kara wanted to say something to make him feel better, but there was nothing she could say and she knew that. She wondered if she should have lied, but Kara tossed out that idea – Justin was her friend, and as such, he deserved the truth from her. The two didn't have to suffer in silence much longer however. The air was sliced with a loud crack and they both jumped with fright.

Another large crack echoed through the forest and Justin reeled in shock as a force pushed him backwards. He stared at his shoulder and the small hole in his shirt. He watched as the hole turned red and began to spread very quickly.

"Gunshots!" he cried out and glanced over at Kara who lay on the ground in shock, "We've gotta get out of here!"

Another shot. It whizzed by Justin's face as he jumped to his feet and yanked Kara to hers.

"Get them!" a voice cried and the two took off through the forest. They sprinted around trees and bushes as another gunshot whizzed by them. The pain throbbed in Justin's shoulder as blood poured from the open wound and stained his shirt. Kara stumbled behind him gasping for air as fear coursed through her veins. From no where, the ground rose and she tripped over it feeling like she was in some cheesy horror flick.

"They're going to catch us!" she cried out as she scrambled to her feet and Justin knew she was right.

"You keep going!" he told her.

"What!" she shrieked.

"I'll hold them off for now! You go and find Bruce! You hear me? Go find him and stick with him! Bruce will protect you!"

"I'm not going to leave you here!" Kara cried out.

Justin reached out and pulled her close, planting a kiss on her lips. He then pushed her away from him as he turned away, "I love you Kara, and I'll be damned if I let the woman I love die right now." He turned to face her, feeling very anxious as he heard the pursuers coming closer, "There's no more time! GO!"

Salvador burst from behind a tree and aimed the gun at Kara. She cried out and cowered. He fired a shot, but Justin was already there in the line of fire, taking the bullet in the chest. Kara's eyes welled with tears as she took off, the resounding noise of Justin's grunt as the bullet tore through him echoing in her ears.

"Get her!" Salvador yelled as TJ appeared behind him.

"No!" Justin yelled and gripped his designated weapon from his pocket – a ball-point pen. TJ smirked and made to run around him, but Justin jumped in front of the boy wincing from the wounds to his person. He jabbed the pen forward, but TJ jumped back and swung down with his dagger which sunk deep into Justin's forearm. Justin cried out and dropped the pen, falling to his knees as everything became blurry.

"Should I still go after her, Salvador?" TJ asked as Luna and Sid finally caught up with the rest of their group.

"Forget it, she's long gone." Salvador replied. Justin smiled despite the intense pain that tore through his body.

_She got away. I did it. I saved her._

Still on his knees, he looked up at the boy standing in front of him. Salvador stared down at the boy in front of him, the gun placed directly at his forehead.

"You only saved her for now." Salvador smiled evilly, "I'll find her eventually."

Justin gritted his teeth and glared at his soon-to-be-murderer. "I'll see you in he-"

The gun fired.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 64

Pending danger zones: 48, 61

(31) Contestants remaining


	22. The Gang

Luna (Girl #5) sat nervously in her bathroom staring at the small contraption sitting on the sink. Her mind raced around and around and large knot formed in her stomach. She pushed thoughts from her mind and concentrated on her breathing. She closed her eyes and pictured the air rushing in and out of her lungs. This thought calmed her down slightly and then she opened her eyes again and walked over to the sink. She picked up the tiny electronic device and stared at it. She glanced at it and then at the box it came in, and then back to it again and then again over at the box.

_A single blue line. Oh my God. I'm…pregnant._

It hit her like a train. She felt very dizzy and slumped to the floor, her head buzzing with so many new problems. Her hand drifted over and rested on her stomach and slowly tears slid down her face.

"Pregnant?" she whispered. She almost couldn't believe it. Sure, she wanted kids someday. But someday far in the future when she had a good husband with a well-paid job and they lived in house in a much better atmosphere – somewhere in the country maybe. But she sure as hell didn't want one now. Luna new nothing about kids, never mind how to raise one. She didn't want that responsibility – she was still so young! There was still so much for her to experience in life, and all a child would do is prevent her from doing that. It wasn't fair!

_How could this have happened? I'm on the frickin' pill for God's sake! And I always tell Sal that he's gotta wear a condom-_

And then the next train hit Luna. There was no doubt whom the baby's father was. It was Salvador (Boy #17) – the leader of the neighborhood gang. What kind of father would he be? Certainly not the one Luna wanted anywhere near her child. And while Salvador was fine for now, she had no intention of staying with him forever. She'd find someone better, richer, and maybe a little taller. But this baby would tie a chain around her ankle and at the other end would be Salvador – ever present in her life from that moment on.

And what would happen if Salvador wasn't too happy about being a father so soon? He'd blame Luna, and who knows what he'd order his gang to do to her – maybe even kill her!

Luna shivered on her bathroom floor and pulled her hand away from her stomach. As much as it pained her, she knew what she had to do. She'd erase this mistake and make sure that no one knew about it. Gaining some strength, Luna tossed away the pregnancy test and left the bathroom to find out the technicalities of abortions.

* * *

Luna watched as Justin's (Boy #18) face disappeared from the gunshot at point blanc. She cringed at the gory sight and glanced over at her boyfriend who held the gun in place. He smirked as the corpse toppled over and he stood triumphantly over it. The emotions that she had felt in her bathroom that day raced back to her. This was not the man that she wanted near her anymore. He was not fit to be a father, nor a husband, nor her protector. She knew that sooner or later it would be her at the receiving end of that gun.

Luna glanced at the other two boys in that group.

_I can't trust them to protect me either. They both still think I killed Janelle _(Girl #10)_. I'm not safe here – I've gotta escape!_

Salvador opened his revolver and knelt down, dropping his duffel next to him, preparing to reload the gun.

"I'll do that for you Sal." Luna cooed and forced a smile.

"Thanks, baby." Salvador said and turned to the other members of his gang. Sid (Boy #14) stood at attention, not saying a word. TJ (Boy #12) focused on the corpse that lay awkwardly on the ground.

"Now, that girl who was with him couldn't have gone very far. We'll start looking for her now. Since there are so many danger zones in the urban area, I'm betting she headed south."

Luna slowly placed in the metal bullets into the gun. She cautiously unzipped her own duffel bag and slid the taser into Salvador's with the rest of the bullets. Then she carefully slipped his bag over her shoulder and took a deep breath, readying herself for what she prepared to do.

Salvador heard the revolver snap back into place and he turned around as Luna slowly stood. He reached out a hand to take it from her when she jumped back and raised it.

"Stay back!" she cried out.

"Luna, what the fuck are you-" Salvador was cut short as Luna pulled the trigger and the bullet zoomed right by his figure.

"Salvador!" TJ cried out, finally seeing his chance to take out Luna. He rushed forward with his dagger, but Luna quickly turned and aimed the gun at him, clocking off another shot. TJ recoiled and flew backwards. He looked down and watched as blood quickly spread over his right thigh. He cried out in pain and the smell of blood wafted through the air. The other two boys stood in shock glancing over at TJ, and Luna saw her chance. She took off, taking the gun with her.

"Fuck!" TJ cursed before looking up at Salvador, "Do you see? That bitch killed Janelle and now I'm shot! This is all your fault!"

Salvador stood over the fallen boy, eyeing his dagger. He reached down to grab it, but TJ swung it out, nearly slicing off Salvador's hand.

"So, you don't want to be a part of this group anymore?" Salvador asked coolly.

"Group?" TJ spat as the blood stain expanded, "Are you serious? The group ended when you let that bitch get away with murder, you stupid sack of shit!"

"If you're not in this group, then you're just another target." Salvador said before glaring over at Sid, "Sid. Kill him."

Sid immediately stepped forward toward TJ. TJ tried to crawl away from the large figure that loomed over him.

"Sid, please don't!" TJ cried out and lashed out with the dagger. Sid sidestepped and swung out his foot, kicking the dagger out of TJ's range. Sid quickly walked over to the bloody blade and picked it up.

"Come on, Sid!" TJ pleaded, "I'm on your side! Salvador doesn't care about you! And he didn't care about Janelle, that's why he let Luna get away with it! Don't kill me!"

Sid stood over the pathetic excuse for a male, the dagger tightening in his grip. And with blinding speed, Sid whipped around and slashed outward, cutting deep into Salvador's stomach. He cried out in an almost female squeak before toppling to the ground. He glanced up at the large frame hovering over him. The large frame holding the glinting metal dagger. And for the first time in The Program, fear entered the eyes of Boy # 17.

"Janelle." Sid hissed before he sliced down, forcing the dagger into the top of Salvador's skull. With his strength, the top of the cranium was shattered easily and the blade cut deep into Salvador's grey cells. One of his eyes rolled up into his head and his body began twitching as blood quickly oozed from his mouth.

TJ watched from a few feet away as his so-called leader was taken out of the game for good. Slowly he forced himself up and he winced from the pressure on his leg. He leaned up against a tree for support and watched Sid slowly pull the dagger from Salvador's head. His breathing became heavier from the strain on his body and he watched as Sid sighed and glanced over at him.

"I'll find Luna." And he walked off in search of pure revenge.

"Wait!" TJ called out, but it was too late. Sid was gone, along with the weapons and protection.

* * *

Isaac (Boy #16) smiled sadistically from the bushes as he watched the scene play out. He had been following the group for a while now watching and waiting and enjoying the soap opera. He knew that killing that girl Janelle would certainly make things tense in the group afterwards, but he was surprised as to how things turned out. He never would have guessed that the weak looking female would actually find it in her to steal the gun, never mind fire it and actually hit someone. But Isaac supposed that most people were full of surprises.

He watched the large boy kill the one they had all been following from the beginning by thrusting the blade straight through to his brain. Isaac tilted his head in interest as he watched the murder continue. After the smaller boy was dead, he waited for the large one to take out the other boy – the injured one. But Isaac sighed quietly when he saw him leave alone in search of the girl whom he believed killed his girlfriend. Isaac smiled at his cleverness and then his eyes fell on the sole boy in his view, the one with the gunshot wound to the leg. And Isaac saw his chance to once again get some action.

* * *

TJ grunted as pain surged down his leg, but he steadied himself, slowly adding more and more pressure to his injured thigh. He adapted to the pain and glanced around to tie around his leg to slow the bleeding. His eyes settled on rustling bushes and the figure that was slowly emerging from them. Isaac appeared from the foliage, gripping his tainted katana.

"Dammit." TJ sighed as he turned to face the boy, wincing as he did so. Isaac smirked and he brought the sword up ready to strike. TJ raised his fists and entered a boxing stance, doing his best to be light on his feet with the pain that racked his brain.

"You're going to be a lot easier to bring down than that other girl I killed. Janelle's her name, right?"

TJ's eyes widened, "You killed Janelle?"

"Damn straight." Isaac took a menacing step forward, "And left that other one alive to take the blame. I thought you guys would've just killed her, but with her alive, you guys were a lot of fun to watch."

"You've been following us-" TJ began.

"For a while now, waiting for the chance to catch you all off guard and take your weapons." Isaac finished stepping forward again.

"So Luna was…"

"Innocent." Isaac smirked, "But I never thought she'd take the gun and run off with it. Like I said, a lot of fun to watch." TJ glanced over at the remains of Salvador, wondering what would have happened if Luna hadn't run off. Isaac saw his prey take his eyes away from the threat and he lunged forward immediately. He slashed down but TJ glanced back and with a gasp, jumped to the side. Isaac swung horizontally at his body next, but TJ saw it coming and rolled away from the singing blade and was up on his feet again. Blood poured from his open wound and the pain sidetracked him for a moment. But Isaac rushed at him again and TJ pushed everything else aside, focusing only on the death match he was engaged in.

Isaac swung again at the injured boy, but TJ ducked under it and launched his own attack, planting several punches into Isaac's gut. Isaac grunted and brought the hilt of the katana down, smashing it into TJ's cranium. He fell to the ground and Isaac quickly spun the blade and brought it down to impale the boy beneath him. TJ quickly rolled out of the way as the katana pierced the earth. Isaac pulled the sword up and lunged again, aiming the sword at TJ's heart as he slowly rose from the ground. TJ dropped to the ground from his crouching position and the sword nearly sliced off his nose. He raised his good leg and kicked Isaac's hand, sending the katana flying. It landed on the ground a few feet away. And before Isaac could go to retrieve it, TJ planted a kick into Isaac's groin.

"FUCK!" Isaac cried out, dropping to the ground. TJ lashed out his leg again, connecting with Isaac's face. He scrambled on the ground and grabbed hold of the katana, using it to help him to his feet and glare down at the boy writhing in pain on the ground.

"Let's see how YOU like fighting a guy with a sword." TJ sneered and rushed forward, the blade easily slicing through the air. Isaac held up his left hand in defense and cried out as several fingers were cleanly sliced from his hand. He cried out in pain and watched the sword coming at him again. He turned his head away just in time as the sword grazed his cheek. Isaac rolled away and scrambled to stand up, cradling his deformed hand. TJ glared at him, holding the katana close to his body. Despite the intense pain that raged around inside their bodies, neither boy would show anything but anger at their opponent.

Only one would walk away.

* * *

Gloria (Girl #22) stopped to rest. She didn't know exactly where she was, but as long as she was away from that group of girls she was fine. Gloria pulled out a water bottle and took a sip, wondering how many girls she had taken out in that grenade she had left behind. Without a doubt she had claimed Taryn (Girl #3), but she wondered if Kim (Girl #17) had protected herself in time. She had caught a glance of Naomi (Girl #11) and April (Girl #15) ducking behind a tree – they were than likely alive. And there was that boy that was there too. Gloria couldn't remember his name, but she guessed he was alive too. She sighed knowing that there were plenty of people out there with the knowledge that she was playing. If she could meet up with Isaac again, then that knowledge wouldn't do anyone any good. But until then, she had rely on her ability to tricking others into trusting her.

_That stupid bastard. If he hadn't had that information about me, I'd still have a chance of getting that neck collar detector._

Gloria wondered if she had damaged the device in the blast. And then she wondered if the girls were looking for her with the device. She had a good enough head start, but they'd catch up with her eventually if they knew which dot was her on the screen. Gloria wondered what would happen if they found her.

She stood, deciding that it was about time that she got another weapon in her possession, one that fired if at all possible. Gloria walked onward, pushing shrubs out of her way and wondering if anyone was in the nearby area. Her question was soon answered.

She stumbled out of the forest into a small clearing, cursing as she did so. She glanced up and saw four people staring directly at her. Corpses littered the ground in pieces as one girl hovered over one of them. A boy and a girl sat on the opposite end of the clearing together and glanced over at her with apprehension. Another boy stood immediately and held out a nail gun aimed straight at her face.

"Don't move." Ron (Boy #8) said sternly. Immediately Gloria began to cry, raising her arms weakly. Ron took the bag from her and opened it glancing inside. "Grenades?" he asked surprised, "Was that explosion we heard earlier…did you make it?"

"Yes," Gloria sobbed, "A group of girls attacked me! Kim, Taryn, April, and Naomi…they tried to kill me! I tossed a grenade and ran! I've…I've been so scared."

"That's okay." Lauren (Girl #16) smiled and walked over to the crying liar, "You're safe here."

"I am?" Gloria glanced around at the dead bodies and sniffed in disgust as the smell finally wafted up to her, making her want to gag.

"We're trying to escape." Larry (Boy #9) said unmoving on the ground.

"Escape?" Gloria glanced at everyone's expression and realized they were being serious, "But how?"

"The collars." Genevive (Girl #21) replied in a matter of fact tone, "I'm trying to disarm them, and if I can, then we can just escape the playing field without a problem."

_Escape? That's a hell of a lot easier than taking all these people on at once. And that means that Isaac can be together too. This sounds like a good idea to me. And besides, from the look of things they've got some decent weaponry here for me to take. After all, I can always decide later if this is a lost cause and toss another grenade into the mix._

"This sounds too good to be true!" Gloria exclaimed wiping away her tears of deceit, "Count me in!"

* * *

TJ roared and dove forward, swiping the katana back and forth. Isaac did his best to dodge, the blade nearly missing him each time. TJ stuck out his leg, planting a firm kick into Isaac's stomach and he doubled over as the air rushed from his body. TJ rose the blade up and swung it down to decapitate Isaac. Isaac spun out of the way just in time, planting a punch into TJ's kidney. TJ stumbled back and winced from the added pressure to his wounded leg. Isaac stood straight up welcoming the air that filled his body and clenched both of his hands into fists (except for the one that was now missing a few digits). TJ stood facing the other boy, spitting out some red liquid and gripping the sword hard. They ran each other, sword swinging and fists flying. Isaac dodged the swipe and reached up and grabbed TJ's wrist that held the sword. Isaac tried to wrench the weapon from the other boy's grasp, but TJ reared back and landed a swift punch to Isaac's face. Isaac stumbled back but kept his grip on the wrist. TJ hit him again in the face, and blood poured from Isaac's mouth.

Realizing that he couldn't take the sword away, Isaac pulled TJ's whole arm toward him. TJ was thrown off balance and stumbled forward. Isaac twisted the boy's arm inward and drove it in, effectively forcing TJ to stab himself deep in his chest. TJ cried out and let go of the sword that stuck out of his chest. Isaac sneered and launched his foot out, planting it on the hilt of the katana and driving it forward so that it protruded out the back. TJ gurgled and coughed up blood and bits of his lung. Isaac approached him and pulled the katana out of the dying boy. Isaac glanced at his maimed left hand and then glared down at TJ. He swung his foot up, catching him in the groin.

"How does it fucking make you feel?" Isaac hissed as TJ collapsed to the ground in a dead heap.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 64

Pending danger zones: 48, 61

(29) Contestants remaining


	23. Revealed

Nathan (Boy #19) sighed from his hiding place right beneath the window of one of the houses in a residential area inside the playing field. Ever since he had been chased there by Paul (Boy #21), Nathan refused to move from his hiding place. And so far, that was a good thing. But Nathan knew that Paul was still out there, and he was still looking for a kill. From the light shining through the window above him, Nathan could tell that the sun was setting. And soon it would be completely dark outside, where danger lurked in the shadows.

Nathan stretched out his legs momentarily and then brought them back into his body and resumed the cramped position. He knew that the house gave good shelter to the game, but he had heard Paul lurking around and entering the houses – it was only a matter of time before he found the one Nathan was hiding in. And then he'd be in trouble.

_And besides, if I stay here, I'll never find – _

Nathan's thought was instantly cut off when noises reached his ears. He heard a heavy door slowly creak open and then quietly shut. Nathan's breath caught in his throat and silently crawled away from his hiding place to look for a place with more cover – a closet or something of that kind, since there weren't any objects in any of the rooms to hide beneath or behind.

He reached the door on his hands and knees and carefully peered out into the hallway. The noises of footsteps continued from the other end of the hallway. Nathan glanced around and saw at least three other doorways he could enter, but none of them would be any better than the room he was in at the moment. He realized it was time to forget hiding and start running. A figure stepped out into the hallway and Nathan jumped back, leaping to his feet. He raced to the window he had climbed through and opened it again. The footsteps quickly came toward him and Nathan leapt through the window, landing on the ground beneath it. He took two more steps and plowed straight into another body.

Paul stumbled slightly and then glanced down at Nathan wincing on the ground.

"What?" Nathan gasped, his eyes growing wide and glancing back at the house, "But you were…"

"Decided to make it easy for me?" Paul flashed a bright smile that seemed to shame the glowing sunset. He lifted his crossbow and aimed it Nathan's head. His finger paused over the trigger.

Nathan's eyes welled with tears that seemed to capture the flames of the burning horizon and become blazing supernovas that slid down his face. He closed his eyes, unable to bear both the brightness of the dying sun and the Cheshire cat grin of the boy in front of him. A deafening roar told him he was dead.

* * *

"So, basically this is the story of two groups of magical beings. It starts back to the origin of magic, where two types were made: black magic and white magic. White magic was used for protection and healing, while black magic was for offense and planet manipulation. They were both very strong types of magic, and for a while, everything was cool.

"Soon, people devoted their lives to only one side of the magical spectrum unable to see the beauty of balance that the two types of magic created. And while nothing bad happened, hostilities and prejudices formed. Family rivalries were really common between those who studied black magic and those who studied white magic. White mages did their best to develop new spells specifically designed to cancel out black magic, while black mages developed larger and more destructive spells for the white mages to try and cancel out.

"Eventually, a war broke out in the magical community. The war was very harsh, forcing families to choose sides, sometimes turning them against one another. People who refused to fight were hunted down and done away with. And derogatory names were brought about to refer to either side of mages – the white mages called the black mages witches or warlocks, and in return the black mages called the white mages fairies or sprites. These terms were used negatively in the story, even if they are common words to us (if not a little negative in our usage too). Anyways, so the war wages and many people die. And basically everything comes down to one final battle. The strongest black mage and the strongest white mage battle it out using incredibly powerful spells and creating immense havoc. When suddenly, two equally strong spells cancel each other out, and a portal opens, releasing this really evil magical beast creature. The mages realize their mistake and join forces to defeat the monster and drive it back to where it came from. This battle ends the war, creating a time of peace. This is where the story picks up." Bonnie (Girl #20) took a deep breath and glanced over at her boyfriend who continued to stare at her.

"You mean that was only the back story?" Peter (Boy #10) gasped and someone in the library close by him shushed him. He winced and mouthed back, "Sorry."

"Yeah," Bonnie continued, "Now then, we're introduced to the main character of the story, a girl named Mitsuko."

"Mitsuko?" Peter parroted, the person who quieted him before giving him another dirty look.

"Yeah," Bonnie said, "This is a manga – it's from Japan. They keep the Japanese names. So anyways Mitsuko is a rare breed – the child of a white mage and a black mage. She is shunned by most of the magical community, and all the while she tries to find the balance of black and white magic that once existed. But prejudices still exist and it appears like another war is on the horizon."

"Sounds intense."

"It's very good. And the artwork is amazing too."

Peter gazed over at his girlfriend as she adjusts her glasses and dives back into the book. He had brought a book with him, but he decided that watching her was a lot more interesting than anything he could read. She glanced up at him and blushed slightly when she saw him staring at her.

"You know," she began, "Sometimes I imagine that I have magical powers too."

"Really?"

She nodded and stared down at the book, "I mean, how much fun would it be to be able to do things like that? Having all that power at your fingertips?"

Peter smiled and he nodded in agreement.

"Which side would you choose if you could only pick one?"

"You mean, if I could only learn black or white magic, which would I choose?" Peter thought for a moment and then replied, "Black magic."

"Why?"

"Because it seems so much more useful. And powerful too. I mean, white magic does what? Cure people and create barriers and stuff like that? How is that useful to anyone?"

Bonnie sighed, "It's tough to explain. In the story, black and white are two sides of the spectrum of magic. Black takes things from the planet, and white puts them back. Black destroys and white rebuilds."

"Sounds almost philosophic." Peter smirked.

"I know." Bonnie smiled back, "I think…that I would want to be white."

"A fairy?" Peter chuckled.

"If you'll be my warlock." Bonnie chuckled back.

"And we can name our daughter Mitsuko?" They both began giggling like mad inside the quiet library, completely oblivious to the many glares from people attempting to read in silence.

* * *

A scream echoed through the woods. Bonnie clutched tighter to Peter's arm as they glanced around themselves for any movement.

"That was Amy's (Girl #13) scream." Bonnie whispered, "I know it is. Amy's nearby – we should go help her."

"We can't know for sure that's Amy." Peter responded, gripping his designated weapon, a rope already tied into a hangman's noose, "And it's too dangerous running into someone."

Bonnie looked up at his face, adjusting her glasses, "I know that was Amy. And she's my friend! She and Terri (Girl #6) are my friends and they're still alive out there. Please, let's help them."

Peter sighed and glanced down at his girlfriend. Every nerve in his body told him that this was a bad decision.

"If it was Nick (Boy #11) we'd go to look." Bonnie said. Peter winced with the harshness of her statement, but knew that she was right.

"Okay, I'll go check. But it's too dangerous to bring you along. We haven't run into anyone yet here and it's going to stay that way. I'll go check quickly and come right back. Don't move until I come back, except if someone finds you. If you see anyone except me, Terri, or Amy, then you run after me and don't stop until you find me. Understand?"

Bonnie nodded and Peter sighed again before standing. He glanced down at Bonnie and then knelt again. He kissed her gently on the lips and then grinned, "And if anyone gives you any trouble, hit them with your weapons and I'm sure you'll be fine." And he was gone.

Bonnie shivered and looked up at the setting sun between the treetops. The sun only set this beautifully in the beginning of summer. Bonnie wondered if she would see a sunset like this one ever again.

* * *

Nathan waited and waited for the pain, but instead he felt pieces of wood on his legs. He opened his eyes and saw the bleeding sun in the sky. At his feet, the crossbow lay in pieces, completely useless. He glanced up and saw Paul still hovering over him with a shocked look on his face. Another enormous explosion and Nathan realized it was from the house he had jumped out from. He glanced over and saw a shotgun barrel poking out the open window. Paul shook from the blast and feel to the ground. He scrambled to his feet and took off out of the range of the shotgun, wielding one less weapon, but still completely unharmed.

"Nathan?" the person in the window spoke the name very softly and Nathan recognized it immediately. The small frame climbed out of the window and Nathan jumped to his feet. Minh (Boy #6) stood before him, squinting his eyes into the burning sun. The large shotgun looked even larger in the small boy's hands.

"Nathan!" Minh smiled widely and he rushed forward. Nathan opened his arms and welcomed the Asian boy in a large hug. The air rushed out of them both as relief finally swept over them both.

_Minh, thank God. I finally found you. I found you._

And the boys shared a long-awaited kiss as the sun completely disappeared beneath the horizon in the background.

* * *

"Polydin Lygma." Bonnie felt slightly childish for saying it, but even the stupid barrier spell from her manga series made her feel that much safer. She knew she had no real magical powers, but if she did – this would certainly be the time to put them into action. Bonnie remembered Peter's last statement to her and she pulled her duffel bag in close and unzipped it. She pulled her designated weapons: books. The first she pulled out was _To Kill a Mockingbird_, followed soon by _The Denial of Death_. Then she pulled out _The Lord of the Flies_ and, to her surprise, _Romeo and Juliet_. Two more books where based on past episodes of The Program. Bonnie loved to read, but she couldn't bring herself to read any of them. If it wasn't the title keeping her away, it was the subject matter. She nearly decided to pick up the Shakespearean romance, but remembered how it ended and all she could do was picture herself and Peter dying in some catacomb.

She reached in for some of the awful plastic wrapped food, but instead her hand bumped into another object. She pulled it out and gasped in surprise, realizing she had missed this book when she first analyzed what she had in her duffel bag.

"The newest issue of my manga?" she gasped, "But this won't get released in the US for another five months!"

She opened it up and saw that it was an advanced copy, already translated into English. Immediately she began to read it, gazing over the beautifully drawn pictures. She fell into the story, walking along with the main character as one of the biggest battles in the entire series was taking place. Bonnie closed her eyes and pictured the spells existing in real life, how they'd spin and swirl with magical energy. She raced through the book, getting to the end in a few minutes. Slowly her eyes squinted as she glared at the pictures and words before her.

"No, Mitsuko," she murmured out loud, as she continued reading. She turned the last page and gasped, finishing it and then dropping the book to the ground.

"She…she died?" Bonnie uttered.

The scythe flew at her, cutting deep into her stomach. She cried out and yanked herself away, sprawling out on the ground, her blood running free. She glanced back and saw that the scythe was attached to something – an arm. And the arm was attached to a body. The boy stood in front of her, slowly walking toward her as fresh blood dripped from his weapon.

"Get away!" she cried out and tried to stand. He lashed out with his curved blade, sinking it deep into one of Bonnie's calves. She screamed in pain and stumbled on the ground, now too injured to stand. She tried crawling away but the boy jumped on her back, causing all the air to be ripped from her lungs. She coughed and sputtered and clutched her bleeding gut. He took a step back off her body and she rolled onto her back, staring up at his face through fogged up glasses.

"Hyanthal desfrumbyr!" Bonnie raised her arm, screaming the white magic spell designed to freeze an opponent in its tracks. She closed her eyes and waited for him to finish her off. And it wouldn't take long, already things were going black. That cut to her stomach was much too deep for her to recover from. She'd be dead in a matter of minutes. But when no new pain came, she glanced up through her opaque frames. And the boy stood over her, frozen in time. She gasped more out of surprise than pain. Had she really done it? Had she stopped him?

Instead Bonnie, looked at his eyes, and saw that he was staring beyond her. She struggled and glanced behind her saw him. Another boy was in her midst. She reached a bloody hand out to him, mouth open in a silent cry for help. The scythe cut deep into her neck ripping open her esophagus, the boy no longer distracted from his job. She gasped twice before she could no longer breathe and slowly drifted into death.

The boy stood and returned his gaze over to the other male in front of him. Bruce (Boy #23) stared in shock at the boy holding the scythe and then down at the dead girl at his feet. His eyes held more questions than he could ask and he merely took a step forward, whispering one word.

"Jeff?"

Jeff (Boy #22) stared at his best friend in the world, the scythe ready in his hand.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 64

Pending danger zones: 48, 61

(28) Contestants remaining


	24. Pain

"So, why don't you talk more?" Bruce (Boy #23) asked, glancing over at his friend. The two boys sat alone in the vacant parking lot of a Burger King, merely existing, taking the moment for what it was. And what a rare moment it was too. The rest of their group of friends either had work or other things taking precedence over their going out. And all who remained were Bruce and Jeff (Boy #22). It was late out, much too late to be out on a school night, but neither cared at the moment. They each sat the hoods of their own cars, staring up at the barely visible stars through the blaring lights illuminating the eerie parking lot.

"I don't have anything to say." Jeff replied.

"That's one big fucking lie and you know it." Bruce said with a smirk, "Really. I can see it – there's so much floating around in that head of yours. Why don't you ever let anyone else inside to see it?"

Jeff sighed like it pained him to do so. He blinked and gazed over at Bruce, "The more I say, the more ammunition people have to use against me."

Bruce curved his face into a perplexed look and said, "I don't understand."

Another sigh. "The more people know about me, the more pain they can inflict on me."

"Pain?"

An overhead light flickered and a shadow appeared on Jeff's face, making him look nearly malevolent. "If people knew my weaknesses, if they knew how to hurt me, they wouldn't hesitate to do so."

"That's not true."

Jeff didn't argue, but Bruce could see it written all over him that he disagreed.

"Why…why do you think that?"

"Because," Jeff began staring down Bruce with the coldest stare he had ever seen, "It's happened before."

Bruce saw his friend clench his fist subconsciously and his jaw tightened. His stare became even colder if that was even possible and it looked like he was going to rip something to shreds, when suddenly he relaxed his body and he glanced back up at the sky, exhaling deeply.

"Jeff," Bruce hesitantly said, "What happened to you?"

Jeff said nothing. He merely continued staring off into space, almost as if he hadn't heard Bruce talking at all.

"You…don't trust me either?"

"Don't take it personally." Jeff said with a noticeable edge to his voice, "I don't trust anyone."

"If you say so."

Jeff glanced over and noticed that he had considerably hurt his friend. And yet, his thoughts told him that it was better this way.

"How do you do it?" Bruce asked after a minute of silence, "I couldn't imagine the feeling of not being able to trust anyone." Jeff stretched out on the hood of his car.

_Don't tell him anything else. I'm giving him too much information._

_He's my friend._

_Or so he says. I can't trust him yet._

_Just tell him enough. There's no reason to tell him too much right now._

_There's no reason to say anything at all._

_Do I want to be alone forever?_

…

_Maybe…maybe he can help us with the pain._

"It used to be a lot tougher for me." Jeff said. He closed his eyes and he could feel it beating in his chest, the overwhelming pain. It ate at him, but he pushed past it this time. The loneliness wouldn't claim him so easily. "The pain…"

"Pain?" It was the second time Bruce said it in complete confusion.

"It used to be a lot worse. But I was able to survive." Jeff slid off the car and stood in front of Bruce, "I was lucky though. I nearly lost myself to it."

Bruce was surprised when Jeff suddenly tossed off his shirt, and he sat up, his face suddenly twisted in shock. There, along his pale flesh, a large scar marked itself in the center of Jeff's chest. Jeff touched it gingerly along its edge nearly getting lost in thought.

"What…?" was all Bruce could manage.

"I did it." Jeff replied, "I couldn't…the pain was too much. I…tried to…"

Bruce stared in pure disbelief at the boy in front of him. He saw how the flesh had tried to reform after it was clearly hacked off his body, and the unsightly scar remained in its place.

"You did this to yourself?" Bruce was standing now too, looking at the face of his best friend, who he suddenly realized he knew very little about. Very little important information, at least.

"I can still feel it." Jeff said with a great weight in his voice, "The pain…it doesn't go away. It's like that knife is still stuck in my chest, and no matter what I do I can't make it go away. It's still trying to claim my life. Even now, the pain is trying to consume me."

Bruce didn't know what to say. He looked at his friend, desperately trying to find the right words to say, but nothing sounded right. He didn't have the slightest clue what to say. So many questions buzzed around his head and he tried to ask them, but even those words refused to come to his aid. Instead he stood there completely dumbfounded.

"Why am I the only one who's always in pain?" Jeff whispered as he grabbed his shirt and tossed it over his exposed chest. He spun around, his back now facing Bruce and he stared down at the ground. "It's getting late, and we have school tomorrow."

Bruce reached out to him, wanting to keep him there. He wanted to ask him what had happened to him. He wanted to help him, to relieve his pain. But Jeff slowly moved away from him. He opened the door and glanced back at Bruce. His apathetic look once again covered his face as he spoke.

"See you tomorrow in school?"

"Yeah." Bruce managed to spit out.

Jeff nodded and then he was in his car. The car started and the headlights flashed on. He waved weakly and drove off, leaving Bruce alone in the parking lot, the scar occupying all his thoughts.

* * *

The two boys stood facing one another. Bruce's eyes drifted down one more time at the remains of Bonnie (Girl #20) and then up again.

"Jeff, what have you done?"

_Kill him!_

Jeff gripped the scythe and crouched slightly, preparing himself for the upcoming battle.

_Wait, Bruce is my friend! What am I doing?_

Jeff shook his head, his mind suddenly filling with doubt. He gazed over at Bruce as he took a cautious step forward, as if testing to make sure the earth beneath him wouldn't collapse.

_Kill Him!_

Jeff sneered but took a step backwards away from his approaching friend.

_Do I really want to hurt Bruce? Does he really deserve my pain like the others?_

The conflicting thoughts surged through his head nearly causing him to fall over.

_KILL HIM!_

"Jeff…" Bruce stood a mere two feet in front of the other boy. He reached out a hand to grab hold of the scythe, and Jeff found himself powerless to stop him. A part of desperately wanted the pain to stop, and the other part want to slice Bruce's head clean off.

"The pain…" Jeff said.

"What?" Bruce retracted his hand.

"The pain…my pain…I'm…relieving it."

Bruce stared back in shock. Jeff glared up at him with an intense ferocity and a burning hatred in his cold eyes.

"People caused my pain. If I give it back, I won't be burdened anymore."

They stood at a standstill again, neither one moving, both waiting for the other to react.

_What the fuck am I waiting for? Kill him already!_

"BONNIE!" the voice rang out very clearly. Bruce spun around and Jeff saw his chance. His raised the scythe high and prepared to stab it deep into Bruce's neck, when he froze yet again. Time seemed to stop as his mind battled itself on what to do. His contradictory thoughts pushed to end Bruce and save him at the same time. His hand wavered, and as time resumed, Jeff spun and ran away, deciding to run from the decision rather than making it.

Bruce turned back and saw Jeff running away. He called out for him to stop, but Jeff ignored him, taking refuge in the dense foliage. Bruce's attention turned back to the new boy in their midst – the one whose eyes welled with tears as he gazed at his girlfriend dead on the ground. Peter (Boy #10) rushed to her side as Bruce backed off and glanced in the direction Jeff was running. He took a few steps after him, when Peter spoke again.

"You did this to her, didn't you?" he spat glaring up at Bruce as he cradled the corpse's head. Tears streaked down his face but he wiped them away with conviction and he stood, gripping a long rope with both hands.

"No, I-" Bruce began.

"You bastard!" Peter cried out in a rage, "I'll kill you!"

Peter rushed forward attempting to overpower Bruce, but Bruce stepped to the side, striking the attacking boy only enough to send him sprawling forward. This only sent Peter further into his berserker mode and he decided to drop his rope, reaching for Bruce's neck with his bare hands. Instinctively, Bruce crouched down below Peter's grasping hands, and placed his hands on the boy's stomach. Bruce launched up explosively, forcing Peter up and over his figure, making him flip in the air and land hard on his stomach. Peter gasped as the air rushed from his body and he coughed, rolling onto his side.

"I don't have time for you." Bruce said with a harshness that surprised even him and he took off after Jeff, doubting that he'd catch him immediately. But hopefully he'd be able to find him before he killed anyone else.

Peter laid on the ground until his anger finally ran its course and he mourned Bonnie's death, curling into a tiny ball and letting his tears fall freely. His sobs echoed through the forest as guilt tore him up inside.

_I never should have left her alone. She died because I wasn't here to protect her._

The guilt flowed through his veins and as quickly as it had left, his anger returned. The two boys he had seen – Bruce and Jeff. They had killed her. He stood and grabbed the rope and his duffel bag, wiping the snot from his tear-stained face. He glanced back at Bonnie one last time and set off after the two boys with a vengeance.

* * *

"So what are you doing here?" Larry (Boy #9) asked as he placed down a card on top of the pile.

"I'm a volunteer here." Lauren (Girl #16) said with a smile as she picked up the card Larry had dropped and placed another card in its place.

"I know that." Larry said returning the smile, "But, I don't know, are you doing this for extra credit or something?"

"Someday I'd like to become a nurse."

"Oh really?" Larry picked up a card and sighed when he saw it, placing it on top of the discard pile, "You already know what you want to do with your life?"

"Sure do."

"How did you figure it out?"

"Lauren!" another voice cried out from the hallway, "We need your help, STAT!"

Without another word Lauren bolted from the end of Larry's bed and was gone. He sighed from the interruption of their card game, but the other voice had sounded urgent, so he supposed it was for the best.

"He's going under cardiac arrest!" the voice stated loudly.

He heard an electric hum and suddenly heard Lauren cry out, "CLEAR!"

"No response!"

"CLEAR!" she cried out again.

A hesitation. Suddenly there was a collective sigh from the other room.

"He's back."

Another hesitation and soon Lauren returned looking slightly more disheveled and stressed than the moment before.

"That sounded intense." Larry mentioned as she sat back down at the end of his bed, making sure not to sit on his broken leg. Lauren merely smiled weakly back. "That sounded like a lot more than any old volunteer would do."

"The nursing staff is short-handed, so when I came here looking to volunteer, they trained me so that I could lend a hand in those kind of situations."

"Lend a hand?" Larry laughed, "Sounds like you single-handedly saved that guy's life!"

She blushed a little, "Well, the nurses have taught me some…advanced patient care, you could say. I don't do it often, maybe once every four months. After all, the hospital can't be having its only volunteer doing dangerous life saving techniques all on my own!"

The game continued on.

"You're very dedicated to this place." Larry said, "What're you going to do when you have to go to college?"

"I'll miss this place, but if my grades let me, I'll be back here – as a registered nurse!"

"What made you decide that you wanted to be a nurse?"

Lauren stopped for a moment, staring deep into Larry's eyes. She sighed and said, "This world has so much pain in it. I told myself a long time ago that I wanted to do everything I could to reduce the pain felt by others."

Larry picked up a card and then glanced over at Lauren, "Well, you've been doing wonders for my leg! The doctor's say I'll be able to leave soon and walk with the crutches."

"That's great." Lauren flashed a warm smile.

The game was winding down.

"When I was young, my grandmother was very sick, and I would come and visit her with my mother every day. There was this one nurse who was always in the room with my grandmother. She was very kind and she had become fast friends with my sickly grandmother, and subsequently with me and my mother and the rest of our family. She'd give me tours of the hospital to give my mother and grandmother time to talk. I especially liked the maternity ward and all the newborns in their little baskets. She was a wonderful woman. She was the first one in the room, the other nurses said, the day my grandmother died, doing all she could to revive her. And she cried along with the family when we buried her. She was the one who explained pain to me."

* * *

A nine year old Lauren stared at the large wooden coffin, not fully understanding why her grandmother was in there, but completely sure that she was never coming out. Tears streamed down her face as she remembered her grandmother's sickly but warm smile. A smile that she'd never be able to see again.

"Do you hurt Lauren?" a soft voice came from next to her. Lauren glanced up as the kind nurse stared down at her.

"It hurts a lot." Lauren replied.

"I know it does, honey." The nurse stared over at the coffin, "Everyone feels this pain at some point in their life. I'm sorry you had to feel it so young."

"Everyone hurts?"

The nurse fought back the urge to sing and instead smiled saying, "Yes, everyone feels pain. I do my best to relieve the pain of others. And because I'm a nurse I can help people feel better. And not just on the outside, but on the inside too."

"The inside?"

"Not everyone's pain can be seen. Your grandmother held a lot of pain. Did you know that?"

"She did?" Lauren gazed back at the coffin, feeling even more depressed.

"That's why I spent so much time with her. We both knew she didn't have much time left and I wanted to do all I could help her enjoy what remained of her life." She gazed down at the young child, "You can do that too."

"I can? Really?"

"Sure, honey." The nurse smiled before turning away tears forming near her eyes, "You've got a warm heart. And as long as you listen to what it tells you to do, then you can help other people. Relieve their pain."

Lauren stared up at the woman, taking in her words and engraving them into her heart so that she would never forget them.

* * *

They sat in silence as Lauren became lost in her thoughts. Larry looked at her and then out the window and then over at her again, noticing how the soft breeze seemed to blow through her hair just enough to make it seem like it was caressing her face.

"I think she was right." Larry said. Lauren smiled and blushed as she stared at her hand of cards.

"Do you really?"

"Sure do."

"Good." She picked up a card and then dropped her hand, "Gin."

"Again?" Larry said exasperated.

"That's game." Lauren stood to leave and giggled like mad.

"One of these days, I'm going to beat you at gin."

"One of these days, you're going to stop letting me win."

Larry smirked mischievously with a certain amount of surprise, "You knew?"

"A seasoned player like you should know the cards I have in my hand and would hesitate to throw the ones I need, not hand them out like you do to me."

"And you haven't said anything up until now because…"

"Because if you're going to lose on purpose, the courteous thing to do would be go along with it."

They both chuckled.

"Fine, the next game we play, I won't hold back."

"You'll still lose."

She left the room giggling loud enough for it to echo through the halls and reach Larry's ears. He sighed and leaned back letting her laugh take him away…far way…

* * *

_So what the fuck happened back there? Why isn't Bruce dead?_

Jeff gasped for breath, finally deciding to stop for breath. He pulled a water bottle from his duffel bag and crouched down to give his legs a rest. He reached back and checked to make sure the can of eye mace was still in his back pocket and then he slid his hand down his ankle,checking that the switchblade was still safely hidden in his sock.

_Bruce is my friend._

_That doesn't matter here! Don't I want to get rid of my pain? How can that happen if I don't inflict pain on others? Sharing it makes the burden easier to carry._

_Maybe there is some other way of sharing it without killing?_

_Like what?_

…

_Exactly. If I want to feel any relief, my pain needs to be felt by everyone. And that includes Bruce._

_But Bruce is my friend!_

_Where was Bruce when I needed him the most?_

…_Bruce didn't know me back then._

_Does that give him an excuse? Does that give anyone else an excuse?_

…

_No, it doesn't. No one is exempt._

…

_Now, if I ever want to get the feeling of that knife out of my chest, I will play!_

Jeff stared blankly ahead into the growing darkness of night as he slowly nodded his head in resolution. He stuffed the water bottle back into his duffel bag and gripped the bloody scythe.

_PLAY TO WIN!_

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 64

Pending danger zones: 48, 61

(28) Contestants remaining


	25. You Never Even Stood a Chance

Ron (Boy #8) sighed as he squinted in the darkness at his watch.

"It's eight. Block 48 is a danger zone now." He announced to the rest of the group. Larry (Boy #9) merely nodded. He shifted his weight slightly and Lauren (Girl #16) stirred slightly but continued dozing with her head comfortably nestled in the crook of her boyfriend's neck. Gloria (Girl #22) sat at the verge of the clearing and stared off into space, lost in her own thoughts. The final member of the group sat in the clearing, doing her best to work on the collars in the increasing moonlight.

Genevive (Girl #21) tirelessly waged the war against the silent captors – the collars that hung around their necks. This was the last collar in the general area, since the others she had worked on had already exploded. There had been at least one close call from the explosions, but luckily everyone in the area had escaped injury each time. However, there was the chance that this last collar would also detonate, and if that happened, Genevive would go in search of more collars. But how safe would it be to move a group this large around in the darkness? It was up to her to make sure that this collar was the one that set them all free.

Lauren stirred again, this time slowly opening her eyes and gazing at the people around her. She sighed deeply and continued to rest, the silence ringing in her ears. She knew from her work as a volunteer that hardly anyone was complacent with being silent for long periods of time. All these people around her needed her to help ease the fear that throbbed inside of them, and she would not let them down.

"When I get out of here," she began as all eyes were drawn to the kind-hearted girl, "The first thing I'm going to do is go and grab an ice cream sundae with everything on it – nuts, whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and a really red cherry sitting on top. That's probably my favorite food in the entire world."

"What flavor?" Larry asked loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Death by Chocolate." She stopped for a moment, and then immediately started giggling and Gloria soon joined her and Ron chuckled lightly as well. "I never would have guessed that I'd ever be put in this situation, but I have to say that it puts so many things into perspective. I didn't know ice cream was so important to me. I didn't know how much more I want to do with my life."

A moment of silence as the group took in Lauren's words.

"I'm going to go out and buy an Xbox and the videogame Halo." Genevive said without looking up from her work, "A bunch of my friends love playing that game, and I can't think of any better way to spend time with them than learning how to play from them."

Ron smirked and said, "I'm gonna go and get myself completely shit-faced so that I can forget all about The Program. And so I can forget what I've seen here."

"Same here." Gloria chimed in.

"I think that the thing I'd most like to do once I'm free is just sit back and relax and play some Gin."

Lauren giggled and leaned closer to him if that was at all possible. They all stared up at the stars together, watching them sparkle like the hope that was beginning to twinkle inside each one of them. A gasp brought them all back to earth.

"What is it?" Ron asked excitedly.

"I…I think I've finally figured this stuff out!" Genevive said with a tone of shock.

"What?"

"Really?"

"No fucking way!" They all rushed around her as Genevive began her explanation.

"Okay, so these collars are a lot more complicated than they look. I was able to identify monitoring devices like the thermometer and pulse regulator. The problem was the rest of the collar, which had wires crossed all over the place and traps in nearly every electronic device."

"Get to the point." Gloria said impatiently.

"I finally found something in the back of the collars – something hidden beneath layers of microchips and other stuff. See that, right there? That thing right there is what gives off our signals. It pulses out a frequency that gives Mr. Smith and the rest of his government bitches back at the school our location. It's also how they make the collars explode, by sending the frequency to this thing."

"So how do we escape?" Ron asked.

"The problem is that that device is also how we get the collars off." Genevive said.

"I don't get it." Larry replied.

"We need to send the correct frequency to that and the collars will fall off on their own."

"Great!" Lauren squealed, "How do we do that?"

"We can't." Genevive sighed.

"You mean that all this was for nothing?" Ron asked in shock. Carefully, Gloria crept back to her duffel bag to grab hold of a grenade.

"Not so fast." Genevive quickly said, "It's true that the government has removed any and all materials in this playing field, and that normally we'd be trapped here. But I have another idea. There's a device somewhere in the playing field that tracks our signals. I know because I ran into the person who has it earlier. If it tracks our frequencies, then there's a chance that it can send out frequencies as well. If we can get that device and find the right frequency, then we can escape."

"Or we could blow all of our heads off." Gloria said.

"If we do nothing then we're all as good as dead." Genevive shot back, "I'm not about to give up trying to escape because I have to move around the playing field now. It's a long shot – I know that. But even if there was a small chance to leave this playing field alive with everyone you care about, wouldn't u try and take it?"

They all sat in silence for a minute, and Genevive wondered if they would all gang up on her first and attack each other later.

"I'm in." Ron said standing up, "I've come this far already – what's a little further?"

Genevive sighed in relief. She gazed over at the three other people in the clearing. The moonlight shone off their faces making them exposed and hidden in shadows at the same time.

"We're in too." Larry stood up also, soon followed by a nodding Lauren.

Gloria sighed as her mind raced. She knew who had the device Genevive was talking about. And she knew that those girls wouldn't be too happy to see her again. But she couldn't figure out the best decision to make. If she left now, then everyone here would be very suspicious of her, and very likely watch out for her. She could try to take them all out, but they were too well-armed. She'd more than likely be killed, if not mortally wounded. But what happened when she went with them and they found the girls? Would they turn against her if they found out the truth? More than likely they would. But they were escaping! How can she pass up an exit out of this fucking place?

Gloria looked at all of them and she made up her mind. She secretly dropped the grenade back into the bag from her concealed hand and finally stood.

"I'm in."

"Good." Genevive smiled in triumph, "Now all we have to do is find-"

Right on cue, Naomi (Girl #11), April (Girl #15), and Kim (Girl #17) wandered into the clearing, their eyes locked on only one person in front of them: Gloria.

* * *

Carlos (Boy #3) could still hear the explosion echoing inside his head. And those girls too, he could hear them scream along with the blast. He wondered where they were. And then he remembered that he didn't even know where he was. Carlos sighed and leaned up against a tree. With the return of night, Carlos was having a major flashback to the very beginning of the game. He hadn't known then that he'd still be alive at this point, but he was particularly glad that he had been wrong.

The sounds echoed into the surrounding oblivion and the moonlight shone through the leafy trees. Shadows were cast every which way and soft winds rustled the foliage into making even more sounds and shadows. So many shapes that could be contestants and so many sounds that could be predators. Carlos wished he was back in his locked apartment.

A soft rustling sound reached his ears and Carlos' breath caught in his throat. The air suddenly became too thick to breathe and Carlos felt himself nearly suffocating in fear. However, he crept forward to see who was near him. A flashing light caught him by surprise. The beam cut through the dark night like a sharp blade, and from the moonlight shining above, Carlos could barely make out a figure holding a flashlight. A feminine figure.

Every logical thought in his head screamed at him to stay hidden, but Carlos knew that he'd need some form of protection. And one form of protection was seeing who was near him. He wanted that flashlight, and he was ready to take it. The figure was definitely female, and that meant that he'd be able to overpower her in most cases. That flashlight would be his, and then he wouldn't have to be scared of the shadows anymore.

Slowly, he crept to the side, moving behind the figure. He could hear her breathing heavily. He inhaled very deeply and held it, as he snuck up behind her. With an audible exhale he launched himself at the girl in front of him grasping for the flashlight. She screeched with fright and without warning an explosion ricocheted into the woods.

_Fuck! A gun!_

Carlos launched a fist out and he connected with her face sending her sprawling. He fell on top of her from his momentum and they twisted around on the ground. Carlos fumbled around blindly in the darkness, searching for the flashlight. The girl cried out and another shot was fired. Carlos cried out in surprised and fought her back, shoving her to the ground. Another shot was fired. Carlos reached up and knocked the gun from her hand and into the darkness surrounding them.

With a sudden quickness, the girl reached a leg up and kicked Carlos off of her. She scrambled on the ground, frantically searching for the gun, while Carlos looked around and saw the flashlight lying on the ground. The girl suddenly found the gun and spun around, pulling back the hammer and aiming at the figure holding the flashlight. Carlos quickly aimed the flashlight into her eyes and she cried out in surprise firing off a shot that barely missed Carlos' head. He stumbled back in surprise and dropped to the ground. He rolled out of the way and scrambled into the darkness, switching off the flashlight. The girl clocked off another shot but all it hit were branches. She shivered and pulled the hammer again on the revolver. She stood and spun around in the wooded oblivion, searching for the threat. She knew he was still out there. A sudden rustling to her left frightened her and she cried out, firing the gun again. She pulled the hammer again and glanced around her.

The flashlight clicked on shining directly into her face. She shielded her face and hissed into the darkness, "I won't miss this time!"

Carlos watched as she pulled the gun and aimed at his face, pulling the trigger. The gun clicked harmlessly and hung in the air. Six shots – the gun was empty.

"What?" the girl cried out. Carlos pulled back and sent a punch into her gut, sending her sprawling. Carlos walked over and picked up the empty gun and the girl's duffel bag also. He opened the gun as the girl moaned on the ground. Carlos quickly loaded the gun and snapped the barrel back into place. He raised the flashlight into her face one last time and he aimed the gun as well.

"Please," Luna (Girl #5) sobbed, "Please don't kill me."

Carlos paused and held his finger against the trigger. The metal felt both warm and cold in his hand and the air became even heavier. His breathing became more noticeable as the gun remained where it was – pointed straight at Luna's face. She cried kneeling before him and Carlos forced himself to make a decision. He wanted to shoot her, but something inside held him back from pulling the trigger.

_Just pull the trigger! Stop waiting and just be done with it! Kill her – it's the only way to win, the only way to survive!_

He stared down and his eyes fell upon a small object dangling from the girl's neck. He gasped and reached down as Luna tried to pull away in fear. His hand wrapped around the necklace and he gripped it and pulled it, breaking it free. Luna winced slightly.

"My sister's necklace."

Luna looked up in shock and the tears began to fall like waterfalls.

"No! Please, I'm sorry! Don't kill me…I…I…" Luna tried pleading between sobs, but Carlos was furious now as the memories raced back to him. He gripped the necklace hard and shoved it in his pocket, pulling back the hammer and placing to her forehead. He seethed with hate and he was all the more resolved to kill her. And yet something held him back. He watched her cry and despite his anger, the gun became heavier and heavier to hold. He sighed and very slowly he placed the gun into his other pocket.

"You're not worth the ammo." He spit out and walked away, using the flashlight as a guide.

Luna watched him go, and let herself cry in relief. She cried for minutes on end and then calmed herself down, realizing that she may attract the wrong attention. Carlos had walked away with her bag full of ammo and food, and that left her pretty much defenseless. She moved to stand up when her hand bumped into an object lying on the ground. She carefully picked it up and saw that her taser had fallen out of her duffel bag before Carlos had taken it. Luna breathed a little easier at seeing that she wasn't completely helpless now. The only problem would be the danger zones. She no longer had a compass or map to know where it was safe to stay.

She took a deep breath and decided that staying put for now was a lot safer than moving around – especially in the dark. She noticed a large tree off to her side and moved to it, carefully climbing up the limbs for added safety. Luna reached a reasonable height and finally allowed her body to relax among the branches.

* * *

Kim was the first to move.

"You!" she cried out and launched herself at Gloria. But before she had even taken four steps, Ron stood in her way the nail gun aimed at her face. Kim sneered at him while Gloria jumped to her feet.

"Them!" tears formed in her eyes, "They were the ones I told you about! They tried to kill me before!"

"Lying bitch!" Kim yelled and took another step forward. Ron shoved the nail gun forward a little, causing Kim to back off. Larry and Lauren seemed frozen in time, unable to move or speak, merely staring at the standoff. Genevive stood glancing over at Naomi. Naomi glanced arounf at the bodies littering the ground and the computer parts strewn around. A comprehension slowly clicked in her head as her gaze met Genevive's. They stared at each other for a moment and then Naomi nodded in some sort of mutual understanding.

"What happened earlier is not important." Genevive said aloud, all eyes now on her.

"I agree, the past is the past." Naomi replied.

"What?" April cried out.

"Naomi, have you gone fucking insane? That whore killed Cassie (Girl #4) and Taryn (Girl #3). Whose side are you on?" Kim shrieked.

"She's on mine." Genevive said, "We're here to escape, not to point fingers at one another."

"And besides, right now, it's our word against hers. Nothing good will come of arguing. But if we work together…" Naomi said.

"We can escape." Genevive finished, "Quite frankly, I don't care what you all do or where you go once this is over. My objective is to get these collars off. You could go and kill each other afterwards, if it makes you feel better. But right now, the collars are the only things that matter."

"And it's important that we get them off." Naomi said stepping up behind Kim and placing a hand on her shoulder, "At any cost." Kim backed off slightly, but her glare over at Gloria did not fade. Gloria stared back at her, a smirk appearing on her face for an instant and then disappearing.

"That device." Genevive said simply. Naomi nodded and took a deep breath. The possibilities of everything that could happen raced through her head. She knew that Gloria wasn't trustworthy and who knew about Ron who stood in front of her. What would happen when the collars came off? Too many things could happen, too many things that would turn out badly. But if the neck collar device could help them escape…

Naomi held out the small contraption to Ron. He nodded and reached out to take it. An explosion ripped through the dark silence of the group. Naomi thought that Gloria had set off another grenade, but when she glanced over, she saw Gloria on the ground quivering in fear. She heard Ron grunt slightly and another loud noise sent him sprawling backwards. She watched him fall to the ground gurgling and the nail gun fell from his grasp. Naomi pulled the neck collar tracker back to her chest and stumbled backwards bumping into Kim.

"Gun shots!" Kim cried out as she knelt and picked up the nail gun. She stood and grabbed hold of Naomi's hand and tugged her away. "Let's go!" she called out to April and the three girls sprinted into the darkness.

Gloria was on her feet next. She clutched her duffel bag and noticed the large machete on the ground near her. She clutched it and took off into the forest, abandoning all thoughts of escape.

Larry tugged Lauren to her feet and yelled something to her that she didn't quite make out. He spotted the box cutter on the ground next to an exposed collar. He forced Lauren after him and picked up the blade before taking off into the forest.

Genevive stood alone in the clearing watching Ron gurgle from a distance as everything came crashing down. The device was gone and her protection was gone as well.

"Ron." She stepped forward when another explosion ripped through the air and Genevive cried out as the bullet ripped through her thigh. She collapsed to the ground as tears streamed down her face. She carefully glanced around her and saw the figure slowly emerge from the shadows.

Ariana (Girl #18) smirked at Genevive and raised the gun to her forehead. Deep inside, she had always respected Genevive as another girl who looked to enhance her mind. She was the only other student who Ariana could ever possibly consider an equal. But unlike Ariana, Genevive had gone and made friends to take up the rest of her time, while Ariana worked on her mind.

"Ariana." Genevive whispered, "I would have thought that a girl with your brains would be above The Program."

"Think again." Ariana replied coldly, "I must do all I can to preserve my mind."

"Your mind?"

"Sure." Ariana said stepped closer to her prey, "My body will someday fade, but my mind will live on. I must do all I can to protect it."

"But at what cost?" Genevive asked, her voice rising, "What happens when you die?"

Ariana's thoughts drifted to Dante's Inferno for an instant.

"What happens to your soul?"

"My…soul?"

Ron suddenly lurched on the ground throwing his body into Ariana. She cried out and fell into the darkness. Ron stumbled to his feet, clutching his bleeding chest.

"Damn." He said, "Damn!" He gazed over at Genevive who still knelt on the ground. He attempted to walk toward her.

"We were so close." Ron murmured as he stood before her, "We were so close to escaping!" Another shot rang out, catching Ron in the side of the neck. He coughed up some blood and tumbled off to the side, breathing as best he could.

"Escaping?" Ariana reemerged from the oblivion beyond them, "Idiot, there is no escape from The Program."

"The collars-" Genevive began.

"The collars are government issue Cobra Collars version 3.7 made of a versatile metal – waterproof, shockproof, flameproof. They are controlled using wireless signals which are tracked back to the command center. The collars are only removed once a winner is determined and then the correct frequency is emitted to deactivate the collars."

"You…you knew?" Genevive's eyes widened.

"If you thought that the neck collar detector would be able to save you, you were very much mistaken. That contraption is designed to ONLY receive signals to prevent someone from doing exactly what you hoped to do."

"But…then…it was…hopeless?"

"If there was some way to escape from The Program," Ariana pointed the gun at Genevive's face, "Don't you think I would have found it out by now?"

Genevive said nothing but stared at the girl before her.

"You never even stood a chance." Ariana pulled the trigger and the bullet ripped through Genevive's brain instantly. She had no time to cry out, no time to scream. All she could do was think. And the answer came to her almost instantly. There was a way out of The Program – and she was doing that very thing at that moment in time. Escaping the horror that had racked her mind for the last day. And with every inch of her being, she prayed that her friends would not all find the escape route she had found.

Ariana stood over the girl, watching her die. She stared at her, almost admiring her resolve at attempting to escape The Program. But Ariana had done the study a few years back. The government had thought of everything when it came to escape, and there was nothing that the contestants in the playing field could have done to try and go around the rules.

Still, there was one last thing that Ariana couldn't help but dwell on. Genevive had said something about her soul, and the cost of trying to preserve her mind. What kind of cost had she meant? Truthfully, Ariana had never really given much thought to her soul. All of her focus had been on her mind, and soon after, ways to use her body to enhance her mind. Her soul had metaphorically taken a back seat.

Ariana shook her head to free herself from the thoughts that were buzzing around inside her head. Now was not the time to contemplate the priorities on her life – her mind was the only thing that mattered and she would preserve it with everything she was.

Ron coughed on the ground and Ariana turned her head. She fired two shots into the back of his head and instantly she reached into duffel bag to reload her weapon. She walked into the darkness, thoughts of mind, body, and soul dancing around inside her head.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 48, 64

Pending danger zones: 61

(26) Contestants remaining


	26. Delusional

Isaac (Boy #16) cursed as he clutched his bleeding hand to his chest with his arm. In his other hand he held the weapon he had been given at the very beginning of The Program, the katana, the weapon he had used to kill several of his classmates, but clearly not without his own injuries. Besides the few missing fingers on his left hand, Isaac could not feel his manhood. At all. He couldn't remember how many times he had been kicked in the groin over the course of this one day, but he knew that once he regained feeling down there, he'd be in unbearable pain. But for the moment, he had enough pain from his injured that had still refused to stop bleeding.

"You were at the track again, weren't you?" the screeching voice racked his brain and Isaac spun around to see who had spoken, but he turned too quickly and lost his balance. He fell to the ground with a grunt as another voice erupted.

"Shut up, bitch. It's my money and I can do what I want with it."

Isaac coughed once on the ground and weakly lifted his head scanning for the people who were yelling around him as his deformed hand throbbed painfully. He went cross-eyed for a moment but shook his head and refocused his eyes. Isaac slowly stood, using his katana to lift himself up. Soon he was on his feet again, successfully maintaining his balance as he stood in one place.

"It's OUR money, you bastard!" the voice knocked Isaac down like a punch to the gut. On the ground, the voices rang in his ears as they had many times before.

"You gambled away another week's pay! What are we gonna use to buy food?" Isaac's mother shrieked as loud as she could at the man sitting at the table. Isaac stretched out a hand toward them but recoiled in fear as his father raised his voice too.

"Give it a rest!" he roared, "We'd be eating for a whole two months from that one check if that damn horse hadn't suddenly lost its energy on the last lap!"

"You always have some excuse! Our son is STARVING!"

"Shut up!" Isaac's father suddenly stood from his sitting position in front of the table and swung upwards, slapping his wife firmly on the face. Isaac winced as he watched the scene play out on the ground. He gurgled on the ground and tried to pry his eyes away. But no matter which way he looked, his parents still continued to stand in front of him. Finally they faded and another figure stood before him. He recognized the body immediately, even though its face was completely covered in trash and dirt. The small impressionable Isaac stood over his more mature bleeding body his head slightly turned in confusion. He knelt down next to Isaac and pulled up pieces of trash from the ground. Isaac closed his eyes and he became the small counterpart, watching as he sifted through the garbage in the dumpster near his house.

"I…I remember…this part." Isaac managed as two new voices suddenly ripped through the silence. The young Isaac sighed inside the dumpster at finding nothing to eat and peered out over the edge at the two men who spoke to each other inside the alley. They were barely whispering, when one seemed to get overly anxious. His voice began to get louder and louder when the other man yelled something out and produced a switchblade, sinking it deep into the frantic first man. The man gasped in shock and cursed before reaching into his own pocket, producing a shiny metal gun. The second man jumped back, pulling out the thickest wad of money Isaac had ever seen. Isaac had heard his parents fighting over money many times in the past – he knew how important money was. The second man said something but the first man clutched his bleeding side and fired the gun. Isaac cowered deep inside the dumpster, but did not dare tear his eyes away. The first man collapsed at that point, falling to the ground. Isaac cautiously crawled from the trash heap and moved to where the two men lay. He bent down and grabbed the large amount of money, and turned to leave, when he glanced back and stopped. He bent down and took hold of the switchblade and gun, placing the large weapons into his small pockets. Again he turned to leave, when he stopped one last time. What looked like some sort of plant inside a plastic bag poked itself out of one of the men's pockets. Isaac shrugged and decided to take that as well.

"Didn't know…what it was…back then." Isaac chuckled, and then stopped as the world spun around him. He inhaled sharply and turned onto his side, the world spinning along with him. He sighed as the images stopped and his memory took over, how he had come home expecting to surprise his parents with the large amount of money he had found and the other gifts too. He remembered seeing his mother crying alone in the house and shocked at all the things Isaac had brought for her. He remembered asking where his father was.

"He…never came back…" Isaac drifted off into unconsciousness.

* * *

"He's injured." Lauren (Girl #16) examined the fallen boy in the darkness. She saw that some of his shirt was already ripped off and she tore it completely, wrapping it firmly about his stump of a hand.

"What are you doing?" Larry (Boy #9) said, grabbing her arm, "You do know who that is, don't you?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Lauren replied, pulling from his grasp frowning. They both looked down at the unconscious Isaac.

"Are you going to help every injured person we come across?" Larry asked her.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"And what happens when they come to kill us?"

"You want to let him bleed to death?"

"……"

Lauren glared at him and then turned away, wrapping up Isaac's hand with the torn fabric. She wrapped it tightly, tucking it in expertly so that it won't come undone very easily.

"We can see that he's been in his fair share of fights." Larry continued, "He's more than likely playing to win."

"I don't care."

"Damn it, Lauren! Don't you understand that we're stuck here now? We tried escaping and that failed – we're back into the game and if we don't start looking out for ourselves, then you're not going to make it to the end."

"Just me?"

Larry was silent again. He saw the realization fill her thoughts and surprisingly, Lauren turned away from him.

"I have no intention of winning. Sorry if that screws up your plan, but that's really selfish of you forcing me to be the only one to live after all this is over. You think I'll have any form of life once this is all over – with all I've seen already and all I'll see before I die."

Larry stared at her in shock. Deep inside, a knot formed in his stomach as he listened to her speak.

"I know what it takes to win – if I win, then it means that I have to play. And that doesn't just mean that I have to kill someone – it means that I have to NOT help others. For me to play, I have to leave Isaac here to silently bleed himself into death." She turned to him with a slight accusation in her eyes, "You didn't complain when I helped Nathan."

"Nathan was no threat, and I believe he still isn't. Isaac here has a sword. A blood-stained sword. That's a big enough threat for me."

"I will NOT allow people to suffer." Lauren stood and stared deep into his eyes, speaking softly but very forcefully. There was no need to repeat it, everything that needed to be said had been said. She turned away from him and grabbed her duffel bag. "He wouldn't have died for a full day if I had done nothing since he had only lost a few fingers and blood loss isn't that fast, but that bandage around his hand should keep him from losing too much more. But he'll still be unconscious for a good few hours. If it makes you feel any better, there's a good chance that he'll get picked off before he wakes up."

Larry was about to protest when Lauren interrupted him.

"Or you could just finish him off yourself if you like." She spun and focused on the box cutter that protruded from Larry's pocket. Larry followed her gaze and stared down at the weapon in his pocket. He became fully aware of its presence next to his body and considered ending Isaac himself, if only to prove a point to Lauren, never mind keep them safe. But he decided against it, since doing so would only serve to upset Lauren even further. He sighed and reached out and took her hand preparing to lead her away.

* * *

_Voices._

Isaac stirred on the ground and he cautiously opened his eyes as a sentence that was spoken finally registered in his brain.

"Or you could just finish him off yourself if you like."

Isaac's eyes snapped open and he saw the two people standing over them. He grunted as firmly grasped the katana in his hand. Lauren glanced down and saw he was awake. She cried out in surprise and jumped away from him as his katana sliced through the air where her left calf had been. Larry pushed her behind him and pulled the box cutter from his pocket, holding it out before him.

Groggily, Isaac pulled himself to his feet and he glanced at the couple before him. He recognized them from his class, but he couldn't place their names, not that he cared. He lifted his sword and prepared to strike when his eyes fell on his deformed hand and the wrapping that now encased it. He suspiciously glanced over at the pair.

"Did you do this to me?" Isaac asked lifting up his hand for them both to see.

"I did." Lauren replied from behind her protector. Larry inched them both backwards. Isaac merely stared at them both in confusion.

"And why would you help me?" Isaac replied, "We don't even know each other. And besides, how the hell do you expect to win The Program when you heal the contestants you come across?"

"Way to be thankful, bastard." Larry sneered. The world spun slightly around Isaac and he could barely hear the voice of his mother explaining that his father had left them in the back of his head. He was still in no condition to fight, but he was sure he could take them both out if he wanted to.

"You just saved my life, didn't you?" Isaac said lowering his katana, the moonlight reflecting off a small portion not stained with blood. "You understand that I could kill you right now, don't you?"

Neither of them said anything, but slowly from behind Larry, Lauren nodded. Larry gritted his teeth and prepared for the strike that he knew was coming. He knew against the larger blade, he'd have a hard time overpowering Isaac. And with the added pressure of trying to protect Lauren at the same time, Larry knew he was in trouble. They were going to die.

"Fine, we're even." Isaac said, "You saved my life, and I've just saved yours. Now get out of here before I change my mind. And don't think that this makes us friends – I'm looking to WIN. If I see you again in this game, then you die. Understand?"

"We got it." Larry shot back. They slowly walked backwards and soon they were gone, running through the darkness. Isaac watched them go, almost confused as to why he had done so. He could have killed them, but for some reason he felt as though he owed them the chance to escape. And suddenly it had hit him – debt. He knew what debt felt like since he and his mother had been in considerable debt soon after his father left them. And that's what he had felt, they had saved his life for whatever reason, and that put him in their debt, and he hated that feeling. Well, in any case, whatever debt had been there was gone now since he had decided to let them go.

Isaac picked a direction to go using his compass and map. He took a few steps and became increasingly dizzy. He fell over and returned to his state of unconsciousness.

* * *

Matt's (Boy #20) head swam with fatigue, suspicion, and most of all pure terror. He wasn't exactly sure where he was or how exactly he had gotten there, but he was still alive, and that was all that was important to him. He pulled out a water bottle and unscrewed the cap, downing half of it in a single gulp. He took a big gasp of air afterwards and felt pain in his back. Matt reached his hand back and slid it beneath the Kevlar vest he was wearing to his flesh, feeling the sore spots.

"Shot." He murmured, "They…shot me."

Fear gripped his brain and refused to let go as he stumbled slightly from his lack of sleep. He spilled a little bit of his water on his shirt and he put the bottle down to wipe off the excess liquid. He stared down at the growing stain and saw it turn darker and darker. He touched it gingerly and then retracted his hand, pulling it close to his face to see it.

"Blood!" he hissed and he ripped his shirt off throwing it away from him. "No! The vest kept me safe! No blood!" He examined the vest and saw that it was still fine, that he wasn't bleeding. Matt sighed in relief and retrieved his shirt, making sure that the blood was gone. The stain was gone from his shirt and Matt smiled as he prepared to put it back on. But before he could put it back on, Matt caught a glimpse at his hands. They were covered in a dark liquid and dripped from his fingers to the forest floor. Matt cried out and threw the shirt away, madly wiping his hands on the vest.

"Shot…" he managed to say to no one and he stopped wiping his hands on his body, "They all shot me."

Matt stood, suddenly feeling a lot more aware. Everything clicked inside his head as his mind twisted around the gnawing fear.

"They all shot me. But I lived. They all tried to kill me, but my vest kept me safe." He mumbled out loud to himself, "They're all trying to shoot me."

Matt remembered earlier in the day when he had run into Amy (Girl #13). She was holding out that really large wrench, but she would have tried to shoot him, even though he was trying to warn her about Ariana (Girl #18). And then she screamed, which Matt knew would have attracted more people to that area. And they would have shot him too if they found him.

He hugged himself, feeling the safety of the bulletproof vest surrounding his torso. This vest had kept the blood inside him – had protected him from everyone else.

_They're all trying to shoot me!_

Matt giggled madly at the irony of it all – everyone was trying to shoot him and he had the one thing to save him from bullets – the vest. He hugged the vest closer to his body as he suddenly stopped laughing and glanced around him, unsure whether or not someone had heard him. He glanced around and his eyes fell on his crumpled shirt lying on the ground. Even in the dark he could see the blood oozing from the fabric and it chilled him. He decided that it was no longer safe to stay put there. He was tired and he knew it – he'd need some shelter to rest. And then once he had done that, he had other plans.

"They all want to shoot me." Matt muttered almost incoherently, "So I have to shoot them first. Get a gun, and shoot them. Before they can shoot me. A gun. I need a gun."

The poor boy driven to insanity then took off into the night looking for some safe place to find some rest. But that was not all on Matt's mind anymore. He had been shot at one too many times. The fear had gotten to him, twisted him. He was now completely gone. Lost to The Program.

He was playing.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 48, 64

Pending danger zones: 61

(26) Contestants remaining


	27. Day One Ends

Gloria (Girl #22) glanced at her watch in the moonlight, barely making out the time. It was getting close to midnight, which meant that another announcement would be made soon. She wondered whose names would be read off this time. She, herself, had one kill to her name, but Gloria suspected that Taryn (Girl #3) would not be the only kill in the last six hours. She wondered if Isaac's (Boy #16) name would be read off. While that thought sickened her, at the same time a part of her felt completely fine with Isaac being dead. If The Program was doing anything to her, it was definitely making her analyze her relationship with Isaac a little bit more. She liked Isaac a lot, their combined business had given them both a considerable increase in cash flow, and she could not deny that he was great in the sack. But Gloria wondered how much of that truly matter in this game. She didn't know what would happen in the endgame if it was just the two of them, and a small part of her wanted Isaac to die so that she didn't have to make that difficult decision. Gloria could take care of herself – she always had.

Gloria clutched the machete she had taken earlier and brought it close to her body. With the large blade and the two remaining grenades, she was a force to be reckoned with. And while she was happy to have the machete, she couldn't deny that it was a little…large for her frame. Personally she preferred a switchblade – like the one Isaac had given her way back when they had first started dealing together. He had said that he had gotten it when he was little, but that was all he would say about it. Gloria guessed it probably had something to do with his father, since Isaac refused to talk about him at all.

She yawned and sighed, realizing that she had not slept in almost a day. She was still in the condition to play if the need arose, but the fatigue was starting to get to her. Gloria decided that it would be safer for her to get some shelter and get some rest soon. But first she'd listen for the announcement, and then once that was over and danger zones were named she'd go and find a safe place to rest. In the meantime, she would wait.

With nothing else to occupy her mind, Gloria's thoughts drifted to The Program itself. She remembered getting that special notice in the mail. It mentioned a special assembly that she was invited to attend. Truthfully, Gloria had planned on skipping the last day of classes altogether. But then she saw the last line in the notice, which said that if she missed the assembly, she wouldn't graduate. And while that didn't matter to Gloria all that much, she knew her parents would be enraged. Her parents weren't all that impressed with Isaac, and she knew that they suspected the sex and drugs. School was the only thing that was keeping them out of her business, and if she didn't graduate, then they'd crack down completely. She'd have to sneak out to see Isaac and they'd be keeping a watchful eye on her. That wasn't something that Gloria was comfortable with, and so she had gone – and she had forced Isaac along with her, since he had wanted to skip the assembly.

Gloria closed her eyes for a moment and watched herself enter the auditorium, a sulking Isaac moving behind her. He had wanted to light up before they had come, but Gloria had decided against it, suggesting that they leave in the middle of the assembly to smoke. That way, they had technically gone to the assembly and they wouldn't have to stick around listening to some boring speech about "beginning a new chapter in their lives" like so many other people had preached to them already. As far as Gloria was concerned with graduation, she was happy that now she wouldn't have to wake up early for anything and could focus solely on her dealings.

They walked together down the aisles as Gloria instantly scanned the surprisingly small crowd that had also been summoned. She saw some of the faces she expected: those who stood proudly at the top of the class – the popular intellectuals who were also involved in everything they could be. She saw the groups of friends next. The five girls that did everything together sat as one large mass in the middle talking excitedly about plans for the summer before college. The miscellaneous group of rejects that seemed to have formed around video games or movies or comic books or something sitting off to the side. The three muscle-heads laughing loudly and playing around. Couples sat together talking quietly to each other until people they recognized came to interrupt them. And while Isaac continued to brood and glance around mindlessly, Gloria couldn't help but wonder why this group had been summoned together. It seemed like the biggest mix from their class – some jocks like Eric (Boy #5), Ron (Boy #8) and Shaina (Girl #12), some people from the top of the class like Ariana (Girl #18), Naomi (Girl #11), Joshua (Boy #1) and Genevive (Girl #21), some people from the bottom of the class like Salvador (Boy #17) and his gang, not to mention herself and Isaac, and finally everyone else was somewhere in between them. Gloria couldn't even begin to fathom why these specific people had been brought together, and before she knew it, she wasn't given the chance.

All the open doors were closed simultaneously, surprising everyone inside the auditorium. There was some tension in the air as people murmured questions amongst themselves. Then air began to reek of some unknown substance. Gloria sniffed the air softly and then covered her face in disgust. She turned to Isaac to ask him what the smell was, when she watched his eyes roll into the back of his head and collapse on the floor. She cried out his name and glanced around the auditorium as a few others suddenly passed out. A few kids rushed by her to the doors through which she had entered and tried to break them down. Even though Gloria was beginning to feel dizzy, she could hear them slowly stop their barrage on the doors as they became unconscious. Slowly they dropped like flies as the gas that was being pumped into the rooms filled their lungs and sent them into oblivion. Questions swimming inside her head along with the knock out gas, Gloria fell to the ground and succumbed to sleep.

Gloria suddenly snapped her head up and shook it slightly, realizing that she had dozed off for a second. She opened her duffel bag and pulled out her water, sipping from it in an attempt to shake the fatigue from her figure. She allowed the memories to slip away from her as she placed the water bottle back into her bag and pulled out the watch. The first day would soon be coming to end. And what a day it had been too.

* * *

Bruce (Boy #23) pushed his way through some bushes and emerged out of the forest, facing the wide open ocean before him. Bruce remembered that last time he had been on the beach – it had been nearly a whole day ago, and yet it seemed that so much and so little had happened during that time. Since then, his friend Derek (Boy #2) had been killed, and Bruce had discovered that his best friend Jeff (Boy #22) was playing, was murdering. He had searched high and low for his friends and had only found the one that didn't want to be found. Where were all the rest of his friends? Where was his family?

A sick feeling formed itself inside Bruce's stomach as he considered the thought that they had all died since the last announcement. He had come into The Program with six friends – one was dead and another was dangerous, but what of the others? He wondered whether they were all together, safely hiding somewhere until he found them. He certainly hoped that was the case, but there were no guarantees in The Program.

Bruce wandered away from the cover of the trees and moved out into the open, staring out at the water. The stars shined high up into the sky as well as off the fluctuating ocean and the soft lapping waves seemed to roar inside Bruce's head. He shook his head and walked over to the water, scooping some into his hands and spraying his face. The coldness shook the exhaustion from his body and the salty taste in his mouth helped him focus more clearly. Realizing that staring out into the horizon would only serve to put him to sleep, Bruce turned away from the glittering sky and walked back into the woods.

He pulled the map from his bag and looked it over as the moonlight shone through the trees. He determined his approximate whereabouts and did some guesswork as to where Jeff would be headed.

_I have to find him. Stop him. Before he kills anyone else. Before he kills one of my friends. What do I do if he attacks them? Attacks me?_

Worry and anxiety welled up inside Bruce. He never would have guessed that he'd have to protect his friends from Jeff, but that was the reality. That was The Program. And even though Bruce had no idea what he would do if that situation arose, he continued onward in search of his best friend, the killer Boy #22.

* * *

"What are we going to do now?" April (Girl #15) sighed. She twirled her designated weapon, duct tape, around her wrist in an effort to take her mind off the situation at hand. Seeing as how that was impossible, she gave up trying to escape reality and instead ask her friends for help. Even though she knew they were as clueless as she was, she couldn't help feeling that if they worked together, then maybe they could figure out some sort of solution.

"No fucking idea." Kim (Girl #17) responded harshly and firmly gripped the nail gun in her right hand. She was not in the conversation mood at the moment. First and foremost, she was pissed that Gloria had gotten away again. Kim's hatred flared momentarily at the thought of that manipulative bitch, but then she pushed it aside. Her thoughts drifted to the most recent confrontation they had had with other contestants. She never would have guessed that people were actually looking to escape, but she was glad to be incorrect. For that moment, at least. Everything had gone wrong so quickly. All she could remember was hearing gun shots and then grabbing the nail gun before leaving the rest of them behind. She didn't know how many of them made it out of there alive, or who was shooting in the first place. She wondered if Genevive had survived, and if she was still trying to remove the collars. Kim hoped so, since escape was a much better option than trying to survive, but for some reason she doubted it. Maybe it was just depression setting in, but Kim was beginning to feel the hopelessness that so many other Program contestants had felt before her.

"I don't know either." Naomi replied softly. She was still a little shaken from their recent ordeal. Seeing Genevive, for some reason, had filled Naomi with hope, and she knew that together they could find a way to leave the playing field alive. And at the same time, it had filled her with guilt, since she knew that she had left Genevive at the very beginning of the game when the fear was still fresh in her mind. Naomi wondered what would have happened if she had approached Genevive – would they have found a way to escape? Was Naomi to blame because she had run off instead of joining forces with Genevive? And what happened back there? Who was killed? Naomi couldn't help but feel responsible for what had happened, even though she had not been the one shooting at the group. Still, it lingered in her head that maybe they'd all have found a way out if only she hadn't run away.

"We can't just keep sitting here." April said.

"Why not?" Kim replied.

"We've all been awake for about a day now. Shouldn't we go and find some shelter and get some rest or something?"

"Oh, so NOW she wants to go back to find shelter." Kim spat, "In case you may have forgotten, we HAD shelter earlier."

"Shut up, Kim." Naomi said, surprising them both. Normally one to talk things out, Naomi never gave orders to other people. Instead, she always explained where she was coming from – that was what made her a good leader and why she was always voted into student office. She stood from where sat beneath a tree, brushing the dirt from her pants. "Let's go find a place to rest." She said simply and April quickly jumped up to join her.

"No."

The single word stopped both of the girls dead in their tracks. They glanced over and saw the look of pure anger reflected in Kim's eyes. She gripped the nail gun tightly and she pulled the boomerang from her bag with the other hand. For a moment, April thought Kim was going to attack, but instead she began speaking.

"All we've been doing so far is hiding, and I'm sick of it." She said, "We tried rounding up people and Cassie (Girl #4) died. Instead, we picked up her killer. We go into hiding and nearly go insane waiting for someone to come and get us. Again, we look for more people to join us and now Taryn is dead. And who knows how many died back there from those gun shots. I'm tired of hiding and running and looking for help. So far, all it's done is kill."

"So what are you going to do?" Naomi asked stepping toward Kim like some form of threat, "Are you going to play, is that it? Are you gonna kill me and April right now?"

April carefully moved behind Naomi's figure.

"Waiting around is only going to get us killed." Kim said, "Looking for other people to join us is going to get us killed. It's time we put matters into our own hands. It's time to stop running and start fighting. I want you guys to live, and the best way I can do that is to go and take out everyone who's playing."

"You're going to play?" April whispered horrified.

"I appreciate the concern," Naomi said with a touch of warmth but mostly contempt, "But that plan is completely ridiculous. How do you expect to know who is playing and who isn't?"

"I already know one bitch who is."

"So that's what this is all about? Revenge?"

"No!" Kim yelled, "Damn it Naomi, I…I can't watch you and April die. And if I stay here…that's what is going to happen. I don't plan on making it out of The Program alive…but I'm completely useless if I stay and hide. People are out there killing for their own selfish reasons, and sooner or later they'll come for us. And I'll be helpless if I have to worry about protecting you at the same time."

"Kim, we can face anything head on, as long as we do it together." April choked out as tears formed in her eyes.

"Not this time, April." Kim replied sadly, "This is just…something I have to do."

Silence settled over the area as the three girls stood there unmoving. Naomi was the first one to break the stalemate.

"Here." Naomi held out the neck collar tracker, "This will help you track down other contestants."

Kim shook her head, "You guys keep it. It'll let you know if someone's nearby so you can escape from them. And that's what I want – keep running and keep hiding. And when I've finally taken out all the murders on the island, I'll come find you."

Naomi nodded and put the device away. She went over and hugged Kim tightly before letting go. April rushed over and hugged her friend also, not letting go for a solid minute.

"April…April you're…crushing me." Kim sputtered. April jumped back and flushed, not that anyone could tell in the darkness. Kim loosened her grip on the boomerang and held it out in front of her.

"I know it's not much, but it's all I can offer you." Kim said solemnly. April slowly nodded and grabbed hold of the wooden object. Kim turned away from them.

"Kim!" April called out. Kim stopped but refused to look at them. "When you're ready to join us again, I want you to sing our song as loud as you can, and we'll track you down. Got it?"

Kim nodded and then took off without another word. The last thing she wanted her friends seeing was her crying. Her two friends watched her go.

"We're…not going to…see her again…are we?" April said, now unable to hold back her tears. Naomi didn't respond, but instead wiped the tears forming at her own eyes.

"Let's go." She managed to say before they turned away from the shrinking figure of their friend disappearing in the distance.

Kim ran through the forest, the tears freely falling from her face and onto the path behind her. For the first time since the very beginning of The Program, she was alone. And much like the last time, Kim wasn't as afraid as she was angry. She had been angry at The Program for placing her inside the playing field and threatening the lives of her friends. But now she was angry at those who were inside the playing field jeopardizing the well-being of her friends. At least she could fight them off. And even though it tore her up inside to leave her friends behind her very much vulnerable, she experienced a sense of freedom as she made her way through the forest. She was no longer the hunted, but instead the huntress.

_The huntress…_

* * *

Nick (Boy #11) sighed in the darkness. He fumbled around with a tiny bottle in his hands as he felt the smooth sides, sensing its presence more than just feeling it. He had read the label on the bottle more times than he could count.

"Cyanide." He murmured out loud. He opened the bottle like he had many times before, and just like he had done earlier, he quickly closed the bottle, turning it over and over in his hands. Nick sat in the darkness, trying his best to save himself.

Suicide had never been a major issue to Nick. Unlike many others, he had found his life to be very enjoyable. Granted he had his low moments just like anyone else, but Nick couldn't imagine ever wanting to end his own life – not with everything he had been given. His thoughts wandered to his family, picturing them huddled around the television waiting for The Program updates. He wondered if they felt as terrible as he did sitting alone in the dark woods. That was what was truly horrific to him – he was alone. He knew that somewhere out there his best friend Peter (Boy #10) was in the same position he was. Nick guessed that he was with Bonnie (Girl #20), and that were probably out looking for him and Bonnie's friends too. Or at least that's what Nick hoped. He didn't want to be alone anymore. He had looked for someone at the very beginning of the game, but she had died before he could find her.

_Jenna…_

Jenna (Girl #14) had been more of a friend to Nick. They had met early during their high school years and as time wore on they spent more and more time together. And when Peter began dating Bonnie, Nick found he had a lot more free time on his hands – most of which he ending upending with Jenna. It hadn't been until he found out that he had been accepted to his top choice for colleges that he realized just how he felt about her. And he had planned to tell her too, until that assembly interrupted him. And now he would never get the chance.

That had been the first time he had opened the bottle of cyanide, when he heard her name being read over the loudspeaker. When it truly hit him that she was dead, he had opened the bottle immediately and stared down at the white powder lying inside the bottle. But no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't bear to swallow the poison.

Tears filled Nick's eyes as memories of Jenna flooded back to him. He remembered when they had gone mini golfing together and how many times his golf ball rolled into the water traps. He remembered how she had given him that hand-knit sweater for his birthday. He remembered when his car broke down with both of them inside and they spent three hours just talking waiting for the tow truck to arrive.

He wiped his eyes and stared down at the bottle in the shadows. Nick knew that he was not going to win The Program – luckily he had not run into anyone for a full day, but once that changed he was going to die. Why should he have to wait? The anxiety was killing him, and the thought of his best friend somewhere out there gave him no sense of security.

_Peter…I'm sorry. I can't…I can't do this. I'm sorry to leave you, but…I just can't take this anymore. This entire day, it's been wearing on me. And it's not getting any easier. People…people are dying. Are killing. I…I'm sorry._

Nick unscrewed the cap and pulled out some water. The tears blinded him but he brushed them away, as he brought the bottle to his lips. He paused for a moment as Jenna's face flashed in his mind. He opened his mouth and prepared to pour the poison down his throat.

_NO!_

His mind screamed the command and Nick responded instinctively. He brought the cap back and twisted it back on before he threw the bottle away from him. He buried his face in his hands so that he didn't see that the bottle was caught in an open palm. Nick sobbed as his self pity overcame him. He wished that things would be easy, like his life had been. He never had to make decisions like this one back in his home. Why couldn't things be decided for him? He got his wish.

Jeff emerged from the shadows, the hand scythe glinting in the moonlight despite its blood stains. Nick raised his head just in time and he cried out, rolling out of the way. He was suddenly on his feet and running through the darkness, hearing the killer hot on his trail. His eyes widened when he saw that a tree stood directly in his path and dodged at the last second, hearing Jeff run into it, before sliding off and resuming the chase. Nick knew that the small hesitation would need to be enough for him to find some hiding place.

He stumbled into a small clearing and the breath left him as he glanced around. He saw numerous corpses lining the ground and he nearly threw up from the gory sight. Returning to reality, Nick realized that he was still being chased. He swallowed the vomit rising in his throat and took a few steps when Jeff emerged from his side, a small can in his hand. The eye mace spray hit Nick in one of his eyes and he howled in pain, dropping to his knees. Jeff launched out a kick as he returned the eye mace to his back pocket and pulled out his hand scythe. He swiped it down, grazing Nick's cheek. He cried out and rolled away from the boy, the blood pouring from the open gash on his face. Jeff rushed at him again, swiping toward Nick's throat. Nick tumbled away, trying his best to return to his feet to run away, but Jeff continued his onslaught, not allowing Nick the time to stand to run away. Jeff swung the blade, again missing Nick's body but he swung his foot and connected with the boy's face before he could move away. Nick bit down on his tongue by accident and he sputtered as blood began to dribble from his mouth. He tried performing a kick of his own, but Jeff spun away and slashed with the hand scythe, forming a large cut on Nick's shin. Nick rolled onto his stomach and cried out in pain. Suddenly he felt a new weight on him, and saw that Jeff was sitting on Nick's back, the scythe to his throat. Tears filled Nick's eyes as he uttered one word, "Jenna."

Jeff's brain clicked and he decided to add to this boy's pain before he died.

"Jenna?" Jeff whispered softly, "Why call out for her? She's already dead. But she put up more of a fight than you did."

Nick's eyes widened as he heard the words and her face appeared before his eyes. And the same command that came to his mind a minute earlier once again came to him.

"NO!" Nick screamed and rolled to side, throwing Jeff from his body before he could slit his throat. Jeff took the momentum and was back on his feet in an instant. Nick's eyes closed until they were mere slits of white in the shadows of his face. "You…killed…JENNA!" Nick, on one knee, picked up the closest thing to him on the ground and tossed it at Jeff. Jeff saw the partially disassembled collar flying at him and swiped the scythe down, knocking it to the ground in front of him. However, neither boy knew that it was the last collar that Genevive had been working on – the one that was still active. The cut from the scythe severed some wires in the intricate system. It beeped twice on the ground before Jeff and then exploded, in a shocking display of fire that knocked Jeff backwards and removed the scythe from his hand. Nick saw his chance and he rushed forward grabbing hold of the blade and he was suddenly on the offensive.

Jeff felt his singed shins before seeing Nick running at him, the scythe reflecting the moonlight. Jeff rolled away from the initial swipe, but remained in a crouching position near the ground, decreasing the number of places Nick could damage him. His hand deftly moved to his sock and he pulled the small piece of metal that had sat there completely useless until this moment. Nick slashed the blade down at Jeff's face and was surprised to see him staying put. In a flash, Jeff flicked his wrist and the switchblade opened, rising up and stopping the scythe in its descent. Jeff's face held nothing but determination as he swung up his free hand, knocking Nick's arm away from him. Jeff lunged forward, stabbing the switchblade deep into Nick's gut.

He jolted and gurgled on the receiving end of the small but deadly knife. Nick's mouth opened in shock and Jeff saw his chance. He reached into his pocket and produced the tiny bottle of cyanide Nick had thrown to him earlier. He tossed the cap off and tossed the powder deep into Nick's open throat. Nick jumped back and choked on the white poison, a cloud emerging from his open mouth. Jeff leapt backwards, shielding his lungs from the deadly powder.

The poison began working almost immediately. Nick clutched his throat as it began burning through his esophagus. He coughed and sputtered, but the damage had been done. A small amount of the cyanide had reached his stomach and he began convulsing as blood erupted from his open mouth. Jeff watched him silently before closing the switchblade and returning it to his sock for safe keeping. He watched Nick fall to the ground choking on his closing throat and vomiting up the blood from his stomach.

Jeff grabbed his hand scythe and then tossed the empty bottle to the dying boy. He watched him perish, convinced that Nick had felt the necessary amount of pain. He pulled out his map and crossed the boy's name off his list. He pulled out his clock and used the moon light to read the small face.

_Five…four…three…two…one…_

And the first day of Battle Royale had ended.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 48, 61, 64

Pending danger zones: none

(25) Contestants remaining


	28. Official Update

_(Broadcasted from every news station in America)_

The Program Official Update!

The first day of The Program has passed, and that means it's time for the Official News Update. This broadcast is designed to help all of you who have had so much information thrown at you – weapons changing hands and kids dying can be tough to keep track of! The following information will inform The Program's loyal fans of who's alive and kicking and who's deader than disco! Now, information you are about to be presented with is only the information you have been given throughout the course of The Program thus far. Therefore, information about contestants not yet introduced is going to be withheld, along with other information not yet presented. Those who are dead have been completely removed from the running – their alliances and motives are not taken into account. As far as alliances go, it will be noted whether or not the other people in the mentioned contestant's presence or not. With the first day over, exactly half of the contestants have been eliminated from The Program.

Let's begin with the gentlemen…

Boy #1 – Joshua

Condition: dead

* * *

Boy #2 – Derek

Condition: dead

* * *

Boy #3 – Carlos

Condition: alive, no injuries

Weapons: flashlight, contestant files, revolver and ammo

Alliances: none

Playing: undetermined

* * *

Boy #4 – Connor

Conditions: alive, no injuries

Weapons: undetermined

Alliances: Girl #25

Playing: No

* * *

Boy #5 – Eric

Condition: dead

* * *

Boy #6 – Minh

Condition: alive, no injuries

Weapons: shotgun and ammo

Alliances: Boy #19

Playing: No

* * *

Boy #7 – Alex

Condition: dead

* * *

Boy #8 – Ron

Condition: dead

* * *

Boy #9 – Larry

Condition: alive, no injuries

Weapons: brass knuckles, box cutter

Alliances: Girl #16

Playing: No

* * *

Boy #10 – Peter

Condition: alive, no injuries

Weapons: rope

Alliances: none

Playing: Selectively

* * *

Boy #11 – Nick

Condition: dead

* * *

Boy #12 – TJ

Condition: dead

* * *

Boy #13 – Vince

Condition: dead

* * *

Boy #14 – Sid

Condition: alive, no injuries

Weapons: metal shield, dagger

Alliances: none

Playing: Selectively

* * *

Boy #15 – Corey

Condition: dead

* * *

Boy #16 – Isaac

Condition: alive, deformed left hand, numb groin

Weapons: katana

Alliances: Girl #22 – not present

Playing: Yes

* * *

Boy #17 – Salvador

Condition: dead

* * *

Boy #18 – Justin

Condition: dead

* * *

Boy #19 – Nathan

Condition: alive, slightly wounded shoulder

Weapons: playing cards

Alliances: Boy #6

Playing: No

* * *

Boy #20 – Matt

Condition: alive, no injuries, psyche lost to fear

Weapons: bulletproof vest

Alliances: none

Playing: Yes

* * *

Boy #21 – Paul

Condition: alive, no injuries

Weapons: hammer, hunting knife

Alliances: none

Playing: Yes

* * *

Boy #22 – Jeff

Condition: alive, slightly burned legs

Weapons: hand scythe, switchblade, eye mace

Alliances: none

Playing: Yes

* * *

Boy #23 – Bruce

Condition: alive, no injuries

Weapons: kitchen knife

Alliances: Girl #9 – not present, Girl #24 – not present

Playing: No

* * *

Boy #24 – Mitchell

Condition: dead

* * *

Boy #25 – Marty

Condition: dead

* * *

There you have it folks, of the 25 males only 12 remain! Now then, let's move on to the females…

Girl #1 – Beth

Condition: alive, no injuries, psyche lost to fear

Weapons: Uzi and ammo

Alliances: none

Playing: Yes

* * *

Girl #2 – Sophie

Condition: dead

* * *

Girl #3 – Taryn

Condition: dead

* * *

Girl #4 – Cassie

Condition: dead

* * *

Girl #5 – Luna

Condition: alive, no injuries

Weapons: taser

Alliances: none

Playing: undetermined

* * *

Girl #6 – Terri

Condition: alive

Weapons: undetermined

Alliances: undetermined

Playing: undetermined

* * *

Girl #7 – Donna

Condition: dead

* * *

Girl #8 – Samantha

Condition: dead

* * *

Girl #9 – Molly

Condition: alive, no injuries

Weapons: yo-yo

Alliances: Girl #25 – not present, Boy #23 – not present

Playing: No

* * *

Girl #10 – Janelle

Condition: dead

* * *

Girl #11 – Naomi

Condition: alive, no injuries

Weapons: neck collar detector

Alliances: Girl #17 – not present, Girl #15

Playing: No

* * *

Girl #12 – Shaina

Condition: dead

* * *

Girl #13 – Amy

Condition: alive

Weapons: undetermined

Alliances: undetermined

Playing: undetermined

* * *

Girl #14 – Jenna

Condition: dead

* * *

Girl #15 – April

Condition: alive, no injuries

Weapons: boomerang, duct tape

Alliances: Girl #17 – not present, Girl #11

Playing: No

* * *

Girl #16 – Lauren

Condition: alive, no injuries

Weapons: rubber band

Alliances: Boy #9

Playing: No

* * *

Girl #17 – Kim

Condition: alive, no injuries

Weapons: nail gun with no extra ammo

Alliances: Girl #11 – not present, Girl #15 – not present

Playing: Selectively

* * *

Girl #18 – Ariana

Condition: alive, fractured left arm, wound to stomach

Weapons: ice pick, tire iron, semi-automatic with ammo

Alliances: none

Playing: Yes

* * *

Girl #19 – Daisy

Condition: dead

* * *

Girl #20 – Bonnie

Condition: dead

* * *

Girl #21 – Genevive

Condition: dead

* * *

Girl #22 – Gloria

Condition: alive, no injuries

Weapons: machete, 2 grenades

Alliances: Boy #16 – not present

Playing: Yes

* * *

Girl #23 – Debra

Condition: dead

* * *

Girl #24 – Kara

Condition: alive, no injuries

Weapons: bowling ball

Alliances: Girl #9 – not present, Boy #23 – not present

Playing: No

* * *

Girl #25 – Leslie

Condition: alive, no injuries

Weapons: none

Alliances: Boy #4

Playing: No

And there we have it - 13 of the 25 females have survived the first day! As always, the information presented is libel to change at any time, since nothing is predictable in the world of The Program!

Now then, for those of you thinking of placing bets at this stage of the game, the stakes have been raised! Please contact your local…

_(Broadcast ended)_

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 48, 61, 64

Pending danger zones: none

(25) Contestants remaining


	29. Announcements part 4

"_Hello contestants! This is Mr. Smith over at the school command center, and I cannot even convey how proud I am of all of you out there. With that drop in contestant eliminations during the last announcements, I was worried that we may not be getting a winner this season. Well, you proved me wrong, and for that you should be proud. We have a total of nine eliminations in the last six hours, and for those of you keeping track, that means that exactly half of your classmates are now dead. With this kind of action taking place, we may have a new record on our hands soon! In any case, I won't keep you all in suspense any longer. It's time to announce the dead. The first name on the list is Boy #24 – Mitchell. A word to the wise little warriors, if you have a gun you better use it or someone else will use it against you. The next name is Girl #3 – Taryn, the most spectacular death that we've seen thus far in this man's opinion. Kudos to whoever killed the girl and I'm hoping that we see more action from them. Next up we have Boy #18 – Justin, who died while giving the woman he loved time to escape. But as many of you just heard, the boy is DEAD. Maybe this example will demonstrate just how useless sacrifice is in this game, in fact it's just as pointless as suicide. Moving on we have Boy #17 – Salvador. You know, I was wondering when the weak looking gang leader was going to be taken out, and while I didn't expect it to be during the first day, I must say that I was very amused at watching how his gang seemed to fall apart all at once. Speaking of the gang, the next name on the list is also from the little group of delinquents, Boy #12 – TJ. The boy put up a very nice fight, but clearly it just wasn't enough, since he is now, in fact, dead. Following him we have the day dreaming bookworm Girl #20 – Bonnie, and I can honestly say that I was not the only one who found it amusing that she tried crying out magic spells from her books as she was dying. Moving on, we have the very promising Girl #21 – Genevive, who had spent most of her time trying to remove the collars. However, we in The Program have taken every precaution when it comes to the metal accessories you have around your necks, and the only way to get rid of them is to have them deactivated from your corpses. Genevive learned this lesson the hard way – hopefully the rest of you will not need to. The next contestant to bite the big one is Boy #8 – Ron, Genevive's self proclaimed protection from everyone else trying to kill her while she worked on the collars. I guess talking about his effectiveness at this point is unnecessary. And finally we have Boy #11 – Nick, who died from a dosage of cyanide – some of you out there enjoy getting creative, don't you? In any event, those are the contestants that are no longer in the running of surviving The Program. On to the danger zones. It appears that only three danger zones have inspired you all into more action, and so we will continue with this action. Starting at the end of this announcement, block 50 will become a danger zone, so steer clear of that block if you have any intention of surviving. In two hours from now, block 56 will be a danger zone. In an additional two hours at four this morning, block 32 is a danger zone. If you can't take the hint little warriors, it's best for you to avoid the boundaries – there's plenty of room in the middle of the playing field to kill each other. That's all for now – keep fighting little warriors."_

* * *

Paul (Boy #21) sat somewhat amused on top of a tree branch. Already half the class was down, and that meant that there were half as many people standing in his way from walking away from this game. At the moment, Paul only had three kills of his own, not that it mattered to him. Paul knew that it wasn't the one with the most kills who mattered, but rather the one who was still alive. That's why he had run like he had when that small Asian boy had open fired on him with that shogun. Paul couldn't believe his amazing luck that he had been completely undamaged from all those shotgun rounds fired in his direction. Sure he had lost his crossbow, but that was better that than losing an arm. Now if only he could figure out what to do with all those arrows still nestled inside his duffel bag. He was sure he could find some use for them. In the meantime, he had rested enough. It was about time he headed back to that residential area and look for that boy he had chased as well as the small Asian one with the large weapon. That shotgun could sure come in handy…

Paul threw his legs over the side of the limb and allowed himself to fall. The air rushed past him as he smirked and landed in a crouch on the ground as it rose to meet him. He inhaled and then stood, turning slightly and catching sight of the monster that stood right next to him. Instantly Paul leapt back and in a flash whipped out the hunting knife smiling widely and menacingly. The large figure stood before him with a dagger and shield like the silent gladiator he was. He didn't lift his weapons in a fighting stance, but gripped them tighter in case Paul rushed him.

Paul stared up at Sid (Boy #14) and was barely able to make out the blood stains on the blade he held. Paul knew that in terms of strength, Sid was far superior. In a fair fight, Sid would have the upper hand, and with that upper hand, he'd end Paul's life. An inkling of fear inched its way into Paul's mind, but he pushed it away. Sid was stronger, but Paul was smarter than the simple-minded giant.

"I don't want to fight you." Paul stated. Sid nodded and spun away. Paul's mouth dropped a little and he realized that he wouldn't have guessed that it would have been that simple. But at the same something held him back. He was glad that he wouldn't have to face Sid in battle, but he would have to eventually, seeing as to how armed the monster was. Sid wouldn't fall so easily, unless there was some form of sabotage from the inside.

"Wait!" Paul called out and Sid stopped and turned his head slightly to listen to what Paul would say next. "Why don't we team up for a little bit?"

Sid turned completely around a confused look you'd expect to see on a five year old covered his face. He took a few steps back toward Paul but then stopped.

"I know we don't know each other very well," Paul said, "But there are a lot of armed kids out there. Alone, you and I are very vulnerable to people with guns."

Sid held up his shield examining it and then glanced back at Paul. He seemed to be wondering if the shield would stop a bullet, and Paul guessed it would, but there was no reason to let Sid know that.

"But if we work together, there's a better chance that we'll defeat them. You and I could win The Program!" Of course, Paul had no intention of letting Sid win. More than likely, once they came into the possession of a gun, a well placed bullet to the back of the giant's head and then the major threat would be gone. Sid appeared to be considering Paul's proposition, but something was holding him back. If Paul was going to follow through with his plan, he needed to figure out what that was.

"Is there…someone you're looking for?" Paul asked, "Someone out in the playing field that you wanna find?"

Sid slowly nodded, and Paul smirked putting his hunting knife away inside his pocket. He figured that that was the case. The majority of people in the playing field were either looking for someone else or already in their company. Someone who had been looking for Paul found him relatively early on in the game. His first kill. Paul touched the top of the hammer head as he remembered her falling into the receding waves, the blood flowing out into the ocean.

"Is it your girlfriend?"

Sid shook his head no and a hurt expression made its way across his face. Paul's smile disappeared as he wondered who Sid could be looking for. He knew that Sid had a girlfriend, he'd seen them walking around the school together along with the rest of their gang. It was at that point that Paul remembered that a good number of people from that group had been announced as dead. He wondered if Sid had taken them all out on his own. Paul decided that it didn't particularly matter and he returned to the matter at hand.

"Then who are you looking for?"

* * *

Luna (Girl #5) allowed the news to sink in. At first she wasn't sure if she had heard correctly, but after repeating the words over and over again in her head, she knew it was true. Salvador was dead. Luna felt the pang of sadness along with the glimmer of happiness mix together in some paradoxical whirlwind. She had had a connection with the boy, hell, she had given him her body countless times. So while she felt sorry that he was dead, a greater part of her was happy that he would not be looking for her, trying to kill her. If she had heard correctly, TJ was dead also, which meant that there was only one other person from their gang still alive – Sid. Luna figured that it must have been he that took them both out. And that meant he'd be gunning for her also. It scared Luna to realize that she had such a powerful enemy somewhere out there. She'd have felt a lot better if she still had that revolver.

She could still feel the horror she had experienced then, being attacked in the darkness, the bright beacon of light shining in her eyes, the cold metal of the bun barrel on her forehead. Luna was lucky to still be alive; this she knew for a fact. But things would have been a lot better if she had actually hit the boy with one of the bullets she fired. He'd be dead and she'd still have the protection of a gun, not to mention a flashlight. But Luna was still alive, and that was the important part.

The branch she was sitting on was rather gnarly, and so she shifted her weight so she'd be more comfortable. A tree wasn't the safest place to be since it was open and there was the possibility of someone spotting her. But she'd have the element of surprise if someone came wandering around. And with no compass or map, Luna couldn't risk wandering around the playing field with all the danger zones and other contestants. But then again, the people remaining could be useful. They all had food and water and maps and weapons. Luna could have all of those things once she ran into another person and took it from them.

That's when Luna became aware of her situation. Her friends were dead and she was alone in The Program. There was nothing holding her back now. She had seen terrible things - people dying, people killing. She'd been attacked. And now she was thinking about how she'd be able to take the things she lacked from another contestant, most likely after killing them. It was unmistakable – she was playing now.

The realization created a tight knot in her stomach. She knew it too – she wanted to live, and that meant that she'd need to kill. Sure, she recognized the other kids from school, but she wasn't particularly close to any of them. All she'd need to do is…end them.

_But not now. Not yet._

She took her time breathing, listening to the air rush in and out of her body. And while the thought sickened her, she knew that she needed to make it so she was the only one left breathing on the island. She wrapped her arms around her body, hugging herself, trying to prepare herself for what lied next.

* * *

"She killed your girlfriend?" Paul asked skeptically. Unless he was thinking of someone else, he was pretty sure that the Luna from his class could not kill anyone, much less repeatedly stab them. But then again, who knew what she picked up after hanging around with that neighborhood gang all the time, besides an STD or two. Sid nodded solemnly and stared off into the dark distance.

"So you're out for revenge?" Again a nod from Sid, and Paul considered the circumstance in front of him. From the small amount of information he had obtained from the giant, the only thing keeping Sid going was the thought of killing Luna, but once she was dead, Sid would most likely playing to win. Paul couldn't have that scenario, since Sid was a major challenge to overcome – one that Paul wasn't confident he could defeat. As long as Luna was alive, Sid would only look to kill her. In the meantime, Paul would tag along, waiting for the ideal opportunity to strike. It was a gamble, but at least if he was with Sid, Paul always knew where the monster was.

"Then, I'll come with you. Hell, I'll help you take the bitch down." Paul smirked and stood before the large boy, "What do you say? Partners?"

Sid stared down at Paul, hesitating as he attempted to make up his mind. Paul's smile glinted with saliva and moonlight, and Sid was reminded of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. That feline had been crafty, and Sid figured that Paul was most likely the same way. But even a small amount of help was better than none at all. Sid nodded and tossed his dagger into his other hand so that he could extend the empty palm. Paul clutched it and then winced as his hand was engulfed and crushed inside the larger boy's grasp. The two boys walked off into the night, collectively more dangerous than they had been separated.

* * *

Bruce (Boy #23) collapsed to the ground in a deflated heap. Already tears were coursing down his face as he saw their faces in front of him. They were smiling, staring right back at him. And then he watched as they suddenly became afraid. They started screaming and their eyes rolled into their heads as blood tears dripped from their sockets. Bruce shook his head, wiping the tears from his face and trying to remove the faces of his friends from his mind.

Genevive and Justin were now dead too. Already half of his family was gone. The guilt sliced deep into him as he curled into a tiny ball on the ground. He closed his eyes and tried to remember all those times he'd spend with them, watching movies or talking or playing video games. Panic set in for a moment when he had trouble remembering a few of their faces, but soon they were all there, and he was there too.

They all chatted excitedly as the television played in the background, but no one was paying attention to it. Bruce couldn't make out what was being said, but it didn't matter. They were all together again, enjoying each other's presence. And then suddenly everything was dark. Bruce awoke with a start, opening his eyes and glancing around. He was still in his house, the TV showing only static in front of him. He was alone.

He noticed a crudely written note on the table in front of him. He picked it up and read it, recognizing Justin's handwriting immediately. He finished it and was slightly confused and so he reread it.

"Bruce, we decided that a game of hide and seek would be a lot of fun in the dark. We're all hidden inside the house. Come and find us!" Bruce put the note down.

_Hide and seek? What are we, five years old?_

Regardless of the absurdity, Bruce stood and he began searching throughout his house. He began in the kitchen and then moved into the dining room. He turned on the lights and searched beneath the large wooden table. Sighing, he stood up and wished that his friends would stop being so childish and come out of hiding. A scream ripped through the silence of the house and Bruce raced off, nearly running into a wall as he hurriedly made his way through the house. The couch on which Bruce had just awakened now had a new body on it and Bruce gasped as he stared into the blue dead face of Genevive. He tried to call out her name, but no sound came out. Instead, another cry was heard. Bruce ran into his hallway and up the stairs into the darkness above him. Something stood in front of him and he brushed it away, feeling something foreign.

_Leaves?_

He heard his footsteps as they suddenly changed from carpet to gravel. He slowed for a moment, and then remembering the urgency of the situation hurried again, bushing more leaves and branches from his face. He appeared in a clearing, and saw the two bodies lying face down on the dirt – Justin and Derek (Boy #2).

"No." Bruce murmured as he searched his surroundings for answers. All he could see were large ominous trees and waving shadows that beckoned him forward into death. He heard movement and he took off into that direction, racing through the oblivion for his friends still hidden. Another scream pierced the night and Bruce ran towards it, noticing that it was very nearby. He emerged into a small clearing and saw Kara (Girl #24) bleeding profusely on the ground, breathing heavily. Above stood her killer, wiping his scythe on a nearby bush. Jeff (Boy #22) glanced back and saw Bruce standing there completely dumbstruck. He whispered something as he raced forward and sliced the blade through Bruce's neck.

Bruce woke in a cold sweat, and he frantically peered around him. Kara was not there, and neither was Jeff. His house was gone, the scythe was gone, the bodies were gone. He was alone. He clutched his neck, and found no wound. Everything was gone. Except his sadness and guilt.

_They'll keep dying if I don't find them._

He left his dream on the ground as he stood and brushed the dirt off his body. He fingered the kitchen knife in his back pocket, making sure it was still there, and then began striding off into the forest. There was no more time to feel useless, to feel culpable. Molly (Girl #9) and Kara were still out there, and they'd die once a hardcore player found them.

_And Jeff…_

Bruce didn't know what to think about Jeff. There was too much going on inside his head, too much that Bruce didn't know about. He wanted to believe that he could help Jeff, but there was a good chance that Bruce may have to protect Kara and Molly from him. But he couldn't even think about that at that moment. First, he'd have to find the two girls before they were lost to him as well.

But there was still one thing that Bruce wondered about as he made his way into the darkness. The announcements had said that Justin had died saving the woman he loved.

_Who is that?_

* * *

"I'm sorry." Nathan's (Boy #19) voice echoed off the bare walls. He shuffled the deck of cards absent mindedly. Minh cradled the shotgun in his hands. The boys sat in the empty room of one of the houses they had come across. Not wanting to risk running into Paul again, they had taken shelter in another random home, further away from their last encounter. They had decided on taking the second floor since the leverage was an upper hand in a fight, and it would also give them a little more time to escape if they felt they were losing the battle. Minh glanced up at the other boy.

"What for? Mitchell? Yeah, he was my friend, and I'm sorry he's dead. But it's nothing in comparison to the idea of your name had been announced." Minh replied, "I kept worrying that your name was going to be next. I…I thought I'd never see you again."

"I'm flattered." Nathan replied with a smile as he continued to stare out the window looking around for threats, "But the rest of this game is still going to be tough. We could have used other people to join us. The few friends I have aren't here – it's just you."

"The few friends I have aren't here anymore either. Shaina (Girl #12) was taken out earlier, and now Mitchell's dead too. From here out, it's only the two of us."

Nathan sighed softly but didn't remove his gaze from the window. And for a moment, his mind wandered and everything before him blurred. He saw the three boys standing before him, aiming the nail gun and pulling the trigger. He watched that girl bandage his wounded shoulder. He saw the smiling face and the flying arrows. He saw the crossbow explode. He took a deep breath.

"Nathan," Minh began quietly, "What are we going to do?"

Nathan finally tore his gaze away and stared into the Asian face a few feet away.

"Survive."

* * *

"Can you believe it?" Connor (Boy #4) murmured out loud to his ally, "Half of them are already gone."

"Are you surprised?" Leslie (Girl #25) responded apathetically.

"A little. I mean, I didn't expect so many to die so quickly."

Leslie shrugged and continued onward pushing some shrubbery out of her way. They suddenly emerged from the forest line and several houses sat before them.

"Good, now we can find a place to rest." Connor remarked as he appeared behind Leslie. Without another word they moved together, examining the homes for the perfect choice to take refuge in for a time. All the houses looked the same to Connor, but Leslie walked past many of them, clearly looking for one with certain qualities.

"This one." She pointed to one.

"Why this one?"

"Because it has a basement, first of all. That's where we'll be staying, not on the first floor where other contestants will look first and not on the second floor where we may have trouble escaping if we hurt ourselves after jumping out a window. Next, this basement has an easy exit right there in case we need to retreat. Third, basements have pipes and other things cemented into the floor, which may give us cover and hiding places in case we need them."

Connor stared at her in awe and shrugged before following her into the house. Once again Leslie had truly impressed him, but Connor had learned that Leslie disliked compliments almost as much as she disliked insults. In fact, Leslie just disliked it when Connor spoke. But he had noticed that she was being a lot less harsh with him as she had been.

"Hurry up!" Leslie snapped.

Or maybe it was just his imagination. Either way, he had stayed by her this far and he had no intention of leaving her now. And besides, she was a lot more protection than his designated weapon was – a big bottle of laundry detergent. So unless a giant grass stain came to claim their lives, Connor was pretty much a sitting duck. But a part of him was glad that he'd be all alone with Leslie in a dark basement. It reminded him of the furnished room that he had always wanted, a bachelor pad of sorts. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get that vision of Leslie from the beach out of his head. No matter how many times he reminded himself that Leslie pretty much hated him, that she would rip his testicles off if he made any sort of pass at her, he couldn't stop seeing the sun reflecting off her eyes and the soft wind blowing through her hair.

They entered the house and slowly made their way around the first floor, searching for the stair that lead down into the cellar. Connor found it first and he whispered to Leslie to follow him. He took two steps and tripped, tumbling down the stairs, hurting his pride more than anything else. Leslie made her way down slowly but then checked to make sure Connor was fine. Connor flushed in the darkness, but luckily Leslie didn't notice and she helped him to his feet. They made their over to one end of the basement, and after Leslie brushed away all the spider webs with her foot, they sat down and the longest silence between the two, since they had first met in The Program, began.

* * *

Jeff finished crossing off the names from the list on the back of his map. He paused after he finished, eyeing three names: Justin, Genevive, and Derek. He sighed as he stared deeper and deeper into the paper as the words blurred before his eyes.

_They're dead._

_They probably didn't feel the necessary amount of pain before they died._

_I wonder if I would have been able to kill them, or if I would have run off like I did with Bruce._

_Of course I would have killed them. Bruce was an exception, but now that's changed too. Everyone must suffer._

_I…I miss them._

…

_I don't want to hurt anymore._

_And soon we won't. Soon we won't feel anything at all._

Jeff stood, not feeling the slightest bit of fatigue. He knew that everyone else left in the playing field was now running on empty. They'd be easier to find, easier to kill. Jeff trekked through the obsidian woods, keeping his eyes and ears open for new victims. He pushed thoughts of his friends away from him. They'd only prevent him from sharing his pain. From easing his pain.

Jeff glanced at his map and noticed that area that was marked as containing houses. Many contestants would look for shelter, and since the urban setting had so many danger zones, this very tiny suburban area in the middle of the wooded area would be the next best thing. He'd find more contestants there.

The second day had begun.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 48, 50, 61, 64

Pending danger zones: 32, 56

(25) Contestants remaining


	30. Gin

"Are you still angry with me over that whole Isaac (Boy #16) thing?" Larry (Boy #9) spoke into the silence. The dark woods concealed them in the night, as well as any potential threats. While Larry would have liked to keep moving, he knew Lauren was getting tired, even though she hadn't told him so. It seemed like she was avoiding all interaction with him whenever necessary. He gazed over at his girlfriend Lauren (Girl #16) who no longer allowed him to sit near her. She looked at him and then upturned her nose and glanced away in the opposite direction of his location.

"I don't see why." He continued, "We're lucky he didn't kill us both right there."

"But he didn't." Lauren responded without even looking in his direction.

"I see, so he must be a saint then. The blood on that sword he carried must have been some sacrificial lamb he used to pray for everyone's safety."

"That's not funny."

Larry resisted the urge to yell some back at her, knowing full well that noise brought attention. But that didn't stop the temptation. She was being completely unreasonable, and now she was blaming him for something. Larry just couldn't figure her out. He wasn't even entirely sure why she was angry, although he did have some idea.

"Can you at least tell me why you're so upset?"

"No."

"Why are you being so difficult?" Larry hissed.

"You want to know why?" Lauren finally looked at him and he watched the tears pouring from her eyes, "I'm angry at The Program for putting us here. There's so much going on inside me right now and I just don't know what to do with it all! I know deep in my heart what's right and what's wrong, but everything is telling me that that doesn't matter! I promised myself that I would ease people's pain – but how am I supposed to do that here? If I continue to do that, then they'll just keep coming after us. But what The Program is asking, no, telling me to do is to increase everyone's else pain until they die! And while I have that telling me what to do, I have you telling me the same thing, and there's even a part of me that wants to do anything to survive. ANYTHING! But…but I can't! Don't you understand, Larry? Everyone around me is dying and I'm completely helpless. So many are dead, and there are more dying…I can FEEL them. I feel them dying! And I can't do anything to stop it! I can't…they're all telling me to do the same…but I can't! Larry, they're dying, and so are we. We're dying Larry, we're both dying!"

Larry was over to her in an instant, and he wrapped her in his arms as she leaned into him and sobbed uncontrollably. He held her head to his chest and felt the warmth and wetness of her tears slowly drench a portion of his shirt. He cradled her for minutes and then continued to hold her as her cries slowly decreased. He listened to her breathe into him, letting his heartbeat match her even sighs, with the occasional hiccup in between. He let his mind wander…

* * *

"You're leg's healing nicely, so you can leave today, Mr. --." The man in the white coat checked his charts one last time and then shined a smile to the boy lying on the bed.

"Today?" Larry parroted and stared down at the deck of cards in his hands.

"Yes, your parents have been called and their on their way to pick you up."

"Thank you."

The doctor smiled one last time before departing. Larry returned the smile weakly and then gazed at the empty doorway, waiting for her to enter. A few minutes passed and he tore his gaze away, opening up the deck of cards and shuffling them for the last game of gin before he went home. A figure appeared in the doorway and Larry instantly gazed over, but then the figure was gone – it was just a nurse passing by. Larry sighed lethargically and he continued to shuffle the cards.

_Where is she?_

Lauren always visited him around this time every day he had been at the hospital. Granted this hadn't been very long, but a routine was a routine, no matter how soon it became one. Larry decided that she must just be running late and he passed it off as nothing. She'd be there in plenty of time for a game of gin and then he'd suavely ask for her phone number and from there on out it would be perfect.

Another figure passed by the door and Larry glanced at it hopefully. However, this figure continued moving as well and Larry returned to his shuffling. He hadn't even realized how much time had gone by when a figure appeared in the doorway. So many people had gone by that Larry had stopped looking whenever movement caught his eye. But this time, the figure remained in the doorway and then spoke to him.

"Ready to go, honey?" Larry turned, confused, and saw his mother looking at him, "Why aren't you dressed? Didn't the doctors tell you we were on our way to pick you up?"

"Yeah." Larry murmured before his mother continued.

"Hurry up and change, your father is circling the hospital so we don't have to pay for parking, and we may not have enough gas to get us home if he does that for too long."

Larry sighed and quickly changed into sweat pants, a white T-shirt, and a jacket before grabbing his crutches and moving toward the door.

"You forgot your deck of cards on the bed." His mother said and went to retrieve them.

"Leave it." Larry said and left the room, his mother following close behind.

He couldn't get her out of his mind. The next two days while he sat home by himself, all Larry could do was see her warm smile and hear her soft voice. He kept thinking he saw her on the television channels, and all the female characters in the books he read ending up looking like her in his mind. As far as he could remember, Larry had not had such a terrible weekend before in his life.

It wasn't until his first day back at school that he decided that he'd go back to the hospital to talk to her. He closed his locker and made his way to his history class, doing his best to avoid the other stampeding kids in the halls. Eventually he made his way to the class room and sighed in relief as he walked in the door, plopping himself down at the first desk he came to.

"Hey there." A voice said to him. At first, he cursed himself for thinking that the voice sounded like hers, but then he turned his head and saw Lauren smiling warmly down at him.

"Hi." Larry responded quickly and awkwardly.

"I think you left these at the hospital." She extended her arm and the deck of cards lay flat on her palm.

"They're…um…for you."

Lauren giggled slightly and took the deck back, admiring it for a moment and then thanking him for it. A moment of silence settled and Larry knew it was up to him to say something, but everything that popped in his head sounded absolutely terrible.

"So…you're…um…"

"…in your history class?" Lauren finished for him, "Yeah. Since the beginning of the year, but I guess it would have been difficult for you to notice me since I usually sit in the back of the classroom."

Larry nodded like an idiot as Lauren added, "It's a lot easier for me to take a nap back there since I work at the hospital so often. And speaking of which, I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say goodbye when you left. But I figured you wouldn't be mad if I said it now instead."

"No. I'm not mad."

_Can't I say anything not stupid!_

"Good. But if you want, I could make it up to you. How about you join me in the back of the room today, and we'll discreetly play a game of gin. What do you say?"

Larry jumped up with excitement and then toppled over from the cast his leg was still trapped inside. A good number of the kids laughed, and Lauren giggled too, but she knelt down and helped him get to his feet. And Larry held back the urge to say, "I think I'm falling for you."

_God, I'm such a loser!_

* * *

That awkward phase had passed quickly enough, but as far as Larry's feelings for Lauren, nothing had changed. Even as he held her in that dark forest, he still felt the way he had the first day he saw her, looking adorable in those oversized pink scrubs. Every once in a while, he'd think he saw her on TV, or get butterflies being near her, or get completely caught up in her smile. But there was no more insecurity, no more anxiety. They were together, and they trusted each other. And nothing could break them apart.

A soft rustling to their side, and both Larry and Lauren gazed over at the new figure in their midst. Jeff (Boy #22) stared down at the huddled couple, his hand tightening its grip on the scythe he carried.

* * *

Peter (Boy #10) was lost. He gazed in every direction but he could hear no sounds, could see no movement. All he could do was feel, and he felt it all right. Fear. The entire playing field reeked of fear. It stunk up the air and overpowered the smells of blood and decay. It filled his nostrils and made him want to vomit. But at that moment, many things wanted to make him throw up until his stomach came lurching up, and yet he held it all down. He'd gag everyone once in a while if he remembered how she had looked when he had come back. Mouth open in horror, blood covering her body, her arm outstretched for help. Peter's eyes welled with tears as he convulsed once, and then grabbed some water from his duffel bag, swallowing it down to ease his stomach.

He had lost those two other boys he had tried following – Bruce (Boy #23) and Jeff. The thought of them nearly sent Peter into a rage, and so he pushed that image away. The image of them both standing over Bonnie's (Girl #20) corpse. The look of complete apathy on Jeff and the one of confusion on Bruce. How Bruce had coldly cast him aside. Peter didn't know what exactly happened while he was gone, but Bonnie was dead and one or both of those boys were to blame.

"Bonnie…" Peter could barely say her name. As much as tried not to, he couldn't help but think of her. He remembered sitting and talking with her all those times in the library, disrupting others with their incessant laughing. He remembered how they both got banned from it for a week for being so noisy. This punishment had not bothered Peter very much, but Bonnie was devastated. She loved books. But she was dead now. She was dead and it was all his fault.

_No, it wasn't my fault. She asked me to go, and they killed her. It wasn't my fault that she's dead. It's THEIRS!_

Finally everything caught up to him and Peter convulsed where he stood, the liquid from inside his body escaping through his mouth. Tears streamed down his face from the strain and his head felt like exploding. But soon he was done vomiting, and he clutched his stomach, falling to his knees. He wiped his mouth with his arm and gasped for breath for a moment.

He glanced up and saw the largest male he had ever seen in his life standing over him. Peter fell backwards and then scrambled away in shock. He jumped to his feet, and his hand reached for his designated weapon, a very long rope. He gazed over at the giant and then noticed another boy standing by his side.

Sid (Boy #14) was still as statue as Paul (Boy #21) walked out in front. In all truthfulness, Paul desperately wanted to rush forward and stab his hunting knife into the boy before him, but he wasn't sure how Sid would respond to that. It was too risky to attack Rope Boy in front of him and then having Sid snap and completely demolish him. No, it was time to once again lure more victims into a trap. Maybe Paul would get lucky and he'd be able to take them both out at once.

"Calm down." Paul said calmly, "We're not here to attack you."

"You're…not playing?" Peter stammered.

"Well now, I didn't say that." Paul replied with a chuckle. Peter's eyes widened and he took a step back, clutching the rope in his hands as if it really could protect him.

"Stay away from me." Peter managed to say the words, but it sounded more like a plea than a command.

"I told you already," Paul said, "We're not here to attack _you_."

He waited a moment for the message to register, and it finally did as Peter lowered his rope, still grasping it with both hands.

"Who…" Peter began.

"Sid here is looking for a little revenge." Paul motioned behind to the monster that still had not moved, "Apparently someone took out his girlfriend and was able to escape."

"Really?" Peter phrased the question to Sid, but received no reply from him. Instead, Paul answered his question with a solid nod. "My girlfriend was killed also."

_Bingo._

"Are you serious?" Paul did his best to hide his trademark smile. Peter nodded and gazed off into space, losing himself to her memory. Not wanting to lose his prey just yet, he spoke up again, "Then you should join us."

Peter returned to reality and stared at the two boys before him. He didn't know either particularly well, and that made him unsure of whether to trust them. Paul, he knew, was a pretty easy-going guy, never one to stir up too much trouble. He always seemed to be enjoying himself as much as he could, and for that most people liked being in his presence. The other boy, Sid, was intimidating to say the least. Everyone knew he was in a gang, the leader's right-hand man in fact. But as Peter looked at him through the shadows of the trees, he saw a glimmer of sadness in his face, and he knew what Paul had said was not a lie.

"We'll help you get revenge too." Paul said. Peter's face hardened and the image appeared before him, the two faces of the boys who had killed Bonnie. His rage took over and he gazed back at Paul.

"Sure I'll join you." Peter said, "Bonnie was killed by Jeff and Bruce. I came back to see them standing over her body."

"That's good enough evidence for me." Paul replied with a smile, "How about you, big guy?"

Sid nodded slightly and then resumed to being a statue.

"Looks like you're in. Welcome to the club, safety in numbers, and all that shit." Paul said and his brain instantly began forming the trap that would seal the fate of the two boys in his presence. Peter walked over to his new partners and addressed Paul.

"So what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Who have you lost?"

Paul turned away, hiding his smile, "Believe it or not, I lost my girlfriend also."

"Really?" Peter asked and Paul noticed Sid reacting to that bit of information as well.

"She was the first elimination."

"Do you know who did it?"

"Sure do. A small Asian boy. With a shotgun."

Flashing smile.

* * *

Jeff rushed forward and Larry reacted instantly, shoving Lauren to the ground and pulling the box cutter from his pocket. He dodged the initial swipe of the scythe and then lashed out with an attack of his own. The lunge missed Jeff's body and the scythe flew down at the exposed forearm. Larry moved it just in time and threw his body into the attacker, sending them both sprawling.

"Larry!" Lauren cried out from the ground, but found herself completely helpless from doing anything else. She remained frozen on the ground as the two boys continued to battle before her.

Jeff was on his feet first, quickly rushing the other boy attempting to regain his bearings. He swiped up at Larry's throat, but Larry quickly leapt aside to the ground. He raised a foot and planted a firm kick into Jeff's stomach, sending him back a few steps. Larry scrambled to his feet and held the box cutter ready in his hand. Jeff glared at him and then glanced over at Lauren who still remained on the ground. Larry followed the boy's gaze in horror and cried out as Jeff ran towards the helpless girl.

"STAY AWAY FROM HER!" Larry roared and charged Jeff and swinging his box cutter madly. Jeff saw the boy approaching and fluidly stopped his motion and avoided the blade as Larry rushed him. And with a single dodge, Jeff was now low and inside of Larry's body zone. And Jeff wouldn't miss this opportunity – with a quick jab the scythe cut deep into Larry's chest. He cried out in pain, but his voice was overshadowed by Lauren's shriek of terror. Larry jumped back as the blood flowed from his wound and quickly spread over his shirt. The damp spot from Lauren's tears was now completely covered in the red stain.

Larry clutched his bleeding chest and a painful breath escaped his lips. Jeff examined the girl on the ground, and then turned back to Larry, readying his scythe. He walked forward slowly, not wanting to rush the suffering of the boy before him. He was a few feet away when he prepared to charge in for another strike.

"Feel my pain." He murmured.

"Your what?" Lauren gasped from the ground. Surprisingly enough, Jeff froze, turning his gaze to the girl. Larry watched as Jeff spun to face the girl, exposing his side. Not wanting to make the same mistake again, Larry waited for the right time to strike, which he would undoubtedly get since it appeared that a conversation was about to take place.

"You are…in pain?" Lauren spoke, "Please, let me help you. I can help ease your pain."

_Lies! She'll only hurt me!_

_But she seems genuinely concerned._

_What makes her any more knowledgeable about pain than I? She's just trying to buy herself some time before I kill her. Do not pay attention to her! Kill her!_

"It always hurts, doesn't it?" Lauren said. Jeff's mouth dropped as she continued, "The pain never seems to go away, does it? No matter what you do or how you act, it always seems to be there, eating away at you from the inside."

Jeff didn't say anything, but instead listened to her speak, listened to her pour his soul out for him. He stood there in shock, unsure as to how this girl could possibly understand what it was like for him.

"Something has happened to you." Lauren found it in her to finally stand and she did so, taking a brave step towards the killer, "You still experience the pain of your past, and you're trying desperately to relieve that pain. Anything…"

Jeff stared at her, unsure of what to do next. He decided to wait. He needed to know what she did – he needed to know how to ease the pain.

"Let me help you eliminate your pain."

Larry saw his girlfriend slowly approaching their attacker. He couldn't wait any longer, already so much blood had left his body and he felt a little lightheaded. He needed to attack now before Lauren got hurt. He raised the box cutter and rushed forward, swiping at Jeff's face. Jeff saw the attack coming a little late, and jumped back, a small slice forming on his cheek.

"Larry, no!" Lauren cried out, but it was too late. The two were back in combat. Jeff wiped some blood from his face and with a single exhale he seethed hate. He rushed forward madly swinging his scythe, forcing Larry to try and dodge at a nearly impossible rate. A jab landed on Larry's arm and he cried out, dropping the box cutter. He reached down for it, but Jeff lashed out again, swiping downwards and catching a side of Larry's face. He howled in pain and was thrown backwards from a swift kick to the neck. Lauren shrieked when she saw some of Larry's teeth through the side of his face and nearly threw up when she saw some of his tongue through the dangling flesh. Her eyes darted around and they fell on the box cutter lying on the ground.

"Please, don't do this!" Lauren cried out one last time, her eyes torn from the box cutter to the sight of Jeff standing above her moaning boyfriend.

"Stupid girl." Jeff spat, "This is the only way to alleviate my pain – by forcing it upon YOU!" Time seemed to slow down at this point. Lauren watched as Jeff lunged down with his scythe toward Larry's throat. In slow motion she raced forward, grabbing the box cutter in her hand and moving toward to two boys near her. The scythe drew ever closer to its mark. Lauren came closer, and through it all, her mind raced at a mile a minute.

_Larry's in trouble. I have to save him. But to do that, I have to hurt this boy. And he hurts so much already. What should I do? I love Larry, I have to save him! My promise - I can't cause more pain. But Larry's in pain too. So much hurt. How can I end all the suffering? What should I do? Even if I kill this boy, what happens then? I…don't know if I could live with myself after knowing what I've done. I have to save Larry! WHAT SHOULD I DO?_

The box cutter fell to the ground as Lauren threw herself on top of Larry's body, using her body as a human shield to protect him from the attack. Larry glanced up and watched Lauren's body jolt as the blade cut deep into her back. She winced and cried out softly. Larry's deformed mouth dropped and a single tear slid down his face as he gazed deep into Lauren's eyes.

"I'm…I'm s-sorry…" she whispered as tears formed in her own eyes. She smiled weakly, but it was still the same warm smile Larry had fallen in love with. "You…never did beat…me…in gin." She giggled and then abruptly stopped, no longer able to do so. Larry saw the end of the scythe protruding from her neck, the blood pouring from the open wound and on to his face. He watched the life drain from her eyes as she struggled to say one last thing. He read her lips as she tried to speak.

_I'm…sorry. What else could I have done?_

Her vision fading, Lauren stared into the eyes of the love of her life. She saw the pain in his eyes, and wished she could do anything to relieve him of it. But she was dying, and she knew it. But for some reason, it didn't hurt nearly as much as she thought it would.

_I'll never play. They'll never make me play._

She stared at him, feeling the blade cutting into her again, but feeling no pain whatsoever. Things were becoming blurry and dark, but she managed one more word before she collapsed.

"Gin."

She had won.

And as quickly as she passed before his eyes, all of Larry's inhibitions left him. In a flash he tossed Lauren's corpse off of him and landed a hard punch to Jeff's chin. Jeff was caught completely by surprise and the force of the blow tossed him backwards. Larry let out a warrior's cry as he stooped to pick up the box cutter Lauren had dropped. He ran at Jeff, swinging with intense passion and might. Jeff moved around in an effort to dodge all the attacks racing at him, and he managed to do so, missing the blade by inches each time. He saw an opening and launched an attack of his own, cutting deep into Larry's bicep. Larry roared in rage and instantly lunged with his box cutter to Jeff's throat. Jeff was caught off guard and he jerked to the side, just in time to dodge the blade, but not in time to dodge the punch from Larry's free hand.

Jeff tumbled to the ground, his lip bleeding from the powerful attack. He watched as Larry completely ignored his own wounds and charged Jeff again. Jeff curled into a crouching position and waited until Larry was close enough. Suddenly he lunged out, catching Larry in the stomach. Jeff wasted no time twisting the blade and yanking backwards, dragging a good portion of Larry's small intestine into the open air. Again Larry ignored his life-threatening condition and stabbed down with his box cutter, sinking it deep into Jeff's upper back.

The pain shot through his entire body and he pulled back away as Larry lashed out twice more with his blade, cutting nothing but the front of Jeff's shirt. Jeff gripped his wounded shoulder and stared at the boy who was charging him once again. Jeff jumped backwards away from another strike and his hand reached behind him to his back pocket. He grabbed the can of eye mace and waited for the next advance. Larry nearly tripped over his dangling entrails but he raced forward again and Jeff extended his arm, firing the spray directly into Larry's eyes. He cried out and dropped to a knee. Jeff moved closer to him to finish the job, but Larry blindly swiped out with his blade, nearly stabbing Jeff in the thigh.

Realizing that he would not be able to defeat the boy without getting damaged again, Jeff sighed. He examined his damaged shirt and then tore it off, ripping it and tying it around his torso to nurse the wound on his back. He guessed it was nothing too serious, but it was still an injury, which would make things a little more difficult.

Larry continued to swipe wildly into the air, looking for the threat. Jeff knew he wouldn't last very much longer on his own. A little more blood loss and it would be over. Jeff walked off alone into the forest, leaving the blinded boy behind him. Larry eventually stopped swinging his box cutter in the air, listening for any sounds – footsteps, breathing, anything to let him know the threat was still there. But after a few moments, he realized he was alone. He dropped the box cutter to the ground, and a moment later, his injuries finally caught up with him. His rage passed and the pain returned, tearing deep into his body. He toppled over, breathing heavy since he knew that he would not be doing so for very much longer.

Even in the painful darkness, he could see her face. The soft hair, the warm smile. Larry smiled on the ground as his life left him.

"Gin."

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 48, 50, 61, 64

Pending danger zones: 32, 56

(23) Contestants remaining


	31. Peter, Paul, & Sid

Bruce (Boy #23) watched the clock tick away in his hand. He blinked once and returned his gaze to the timepiece before him. He counted away the seconds in his head until the hour was finally reached.

"Two in the morning." he murmured. That meant that another block was now a danger zone. He pulled out his map and clearly marked the new forbidden area so that he would be sure to steer clear of it. Bruce placed the map back into his bag, his thoughts drifting. He wondered if someone had just perished inside that space of the playing field. He wondered if someone had been hiding somewhere inside block 56. He wondered if he had just lost any more members of his family.

Bruce sighed in the darkness that surrounded him. It had been too long since he had seen another human being. He remembered that the last announcements had said that exactly half of the contestants were dead, but be that as it may, he would have expected to run into someone at some point. It seemed almost ironic that no matter how hard he searched for other people, Bruce was always alone. Already a day had passed, and he had had minimal contact with the other contestants.

That changed instantly.

"That's him!" a voice cried out.

Bruce gazed over and saw a wide grin racing at in the darkness. A flash of silver raced at his face, but Bruce spun off to the side, using his attacker's momentum to send him sprawling to the ground. Something metallic clanged with the back of his head and Bruce fell to the ground. Immediately he sprung up as a dagger embedded itself in the ground where he had fallen. A kick from behind sent him again to the ground and a large itchy rope wrapped itself around his neck, and Bruce struggled on the ground, finally able to pry the object away from his throat. He threw a punch into the darkness, feeling it connect and hearing the air rush from someone's lungs.

Running footsteps from behind him caught Bruce's attention and he spun away as the wide metal object struck out where he had been, and connected with the person with the rope. He cried out in pain and Bruce turned his attention to the Cheshire cat grin that was once again racing at him. Bruce sneered and leapt up in the air, thrusting out his leg in a sideways kick. The figure toppled off into oblivion.

_I need to get into some light!_

He took off, picturing the map in his mind. He tried to remember if there was some sort of clearing nearby, where the moonlight would shine without the blockade of foliage. He could hear some curses behind him, but he knew that his group of attackers would catch up to him soon. He tripped over a mound of dirt and tumbled forward through the forest line and catching a mouthful of sand. He spit it out in disgust and glanced up, seeing the vast ocean spread out before him, the moonlight reflecting off the receding waves.

_Plenty of light here._

Bruce rolled onto his back and prepared to sit up, when a figure lunged at him from the woods. Paul (Boy #21) extended his hand holding his hunting knife, aiming straight for Bruce's heart. His other hand was raised, clutching a hammer and preparing to crush in Bruce's skull. Bruce raised both of his legs and caught Paul's chest before he was close enough to inflict damage. He lifted his legs up and over, performing a backwards somersault and throwing Paul away from him at the same time. Bruce wiped the sand away from his eyes and saw a beast of a man rush out of the woods.

"Oh shit." He muttered as Sid (Boy #14) clutched his shield and dagger like the warrior he was, and rushed at Bruce. He swiped the dagger down and to the side, missing Bruce both times, but Bruce couldn't avoid the shield being thrust into his body and he tumbled into the sand. He rolled in the tiny specks of quartz and rose to his feet to see the last person emerge from the line of trees. He recognized him immediately – Peter (Boy #10), the boy who thought Bruce had killed his girlfriend. Blood gushed from Peter's nose, but despite the injury, the anger still burned in his eyes as he gazed at Bruce.

Paul was rushing him again, and Bruce blocked the hand holding the hammer. The hunting knife bore its way to his kidney, but Bruce thrust down his other arm, preventing the attack from connecting to his body, but painfully grazing his forearm. He grunted and thrust his head forward, connecting with Paul's nose. Paul cursed and fell back enough for Bruce to raise a knee and hit Paul in the gut. The air rushed from his mouth as blood ran down from his nose. A swift uppercut sent Paul sprawling.

A body jumped on Bruce's back and he watched as the rope was once again headed for his throat. Bruce struggled for a moment, but he was able to toss Peter's body off of his. However, he continued to grip the long end of the rope and turned to see Sid bearing down at him, the dagger making its way to his exposed torso. Bruce fluidly dodged the lunge from the gladiator, wrapping the rope around his wrist. Bruce rushed past Sid's large frame and tugged the rope with all his might, catching Sid off guard. The large boy jolted, his body now tugged in the opposite direction had had been heading. Bruce lifted off, spinning in the air and using the momentum as added strength in delivering a kick to Sid's face.

Bruce backed off and gave himself some space from his three attackers. Slowly they all stood. Peter unraveled the rope from Sid arm and held it in front of him, the hangman's noose nearly touching the ground. Sid moved his arm, effectively snapping it back into the socket. He grunted slightly but then faced off against Bruce, gripping his dagger and shield. Paul grinned sadistically and stood on the opposite side of his giant ally. Bruce glanced off to the side to where his duffel bag sat on the sand, exactly where he had dropped it when he had stumbled onto the beach. He contemplated running for the duffel bag and then trying to escape, but he threw that thought away. This group before him was dangerous, and they'd more than likely catch him eventually. And the three boys together was more than enough to take out nearly everyone else in the playing field, including the rest of Bruce's friends who were still alive.

The stars twinkled overhead as the four boys merely stared at one another, feeling the exhaustion the battle had already exposed. The sound of the crashing waves drowned out their deep breaths as the showdown continued. Bruce gazed at all three of their faces – Peter's expression of rage, Paul's expression of glee, Sid's expression of apathy. These three truly did represent the wide spectrum of people drawn into playing the game.

_I wonder…I wonder if any of them took out my friends._

Bruce's brow furrowed as he brought up two fists as a single drop of blood dripped into the sand from the wound on his arm, and prepared to fight for his life.

* * *

"I…don't…sing." Kim (Girl #17) emphasized each word for added effect. Even in the dimmed conditions, she could see April's (Girl #15) disappointed look.

"Come on, Kim," April said, "It'll be fun with all of us up there. Please?"

"Forget it, April," Naomi (Girl #11) sighed with a smile, "You know that Kim never does anything she doesn't want to."

Silence settled as the girls at the table stared up at the stage, at the giggling Taryn (Girl #3) and Cassie (Girl #4) singing a duet into a single microphone. Words were scrolling on a prompter before them, but neither needed it. They knew the words to "Summer Lovin'" like they knew their own birthdays. They took turns singing, Cassie specifically dropping the tone of her voice to imitate a male voice singing the song. And then they'd sing in perfect harmony together, a good majority of the people in the audience swaying to the familiar beat.

"Most of the people here are drunk anyways." April turned to Kim, "You don't have to be embarrassed about singing in front of people."

"Would you give it a rest?" Kim sighed in frustration, "I don't like singing karaoke."

The song ended and a roar of applause deafened everyone as both Cassie and Taryn bowed to the crowd.

"We're up, Naomi." April smirked and stood, throwing last gaze to Kim, "Last chance."

Kim turned away from April to see Naomi staring at her as well. She gazed up at her two friends that remained on the stage, as they both smiled warmly and beckoned her up with them.

"No."

"Okay, Kim. I won't force you now. But this is going to be our group song. And before we graduate we're all going to sing it together up here one of these nights." April joined the rest of the girls up on the stage.

"Whatever." Kim responded to no one and gazed away as the song began, and the four voices all sang together.

"_First I was afraid, I was petrified, kept thinking I could never live without you by my side…_"

Kim sighed, recognizing the song immediately, just as everyone else in the room did. She wondered why April had chosen such a cliché song to be "the group song", but then again, April was always doing things like that. Kim thought that she was worried that the group would fall apart when they all went off to college, and that things like group songs and trips to the spa together would give them all something to hang onto, so they could all eventually come back together.

"_You think I'd crumble, you think I'd lay down and die? Oh no, not I. I will survive!_"

From her seat, Kim mouthed the words to herself as her friends sang together up on stage. This song had been played twice already, both times by a single girl who had trouble standing on stage, never mind singing along with the music. Kim was convinced that she and her friends were the only ones not drunk at that karaoke night. She'd drink occasionally if someone on the softball team was hosting a party, but the rest of her friends didn't. And so, most of the time, Kim didn't either. Although she was pretty sure that she'd be having a better time with a couple shots of vodka in her system.

The song was coming to a close and people were already beginning to cheer for the four girls on stage. Collectively they weren't half bad, but Cassie was the real spotlight, with the only real training in singing. Taryn and Naomi weren't half bad. But April was putting in a lot of effort with little outcome. She was the only one who couldn't carry a tune, even if she was provided a bucket. But luckily she was drowned out when all four sang together.

As the song ended, and the audience erupted in applause, Kim suddenly wished that she was anywhere else besides that hideously pointless, thrown together school-spirit event.

* * *

Kim wondered why she was thinking about that karaoke night. It felt like it had been so long ago, but in actuality, it had only occurred a few weeks earlier. But then again, Kim also felt that the assembly that had thrust her into this hell had been a while back too, and that was just not the case.

She fumbled the nail gun around in her hands, mindful not to accidentally fire it. The last thing she needed to do was injure herself. And then there was the problem of ammunition. All she had was the nail gun and the nails that were already loaded into it. Once they ran out, she'd have to use the nail gun as some sort of awkward blunt object for protection. If only she could find another weapon. She nearly regretted leaving her boomerang with Naomi and April, but then she reminded herself that they needed it much more than she did. For the time being, she'd just have to do what she could.

Kim needed a place to rest. She hated to admit it, but she hadn't gotten any rest since The Program had begun, and it was starting to get at her. She knew that taking a nap was a very dangerous decision, but Kim was worried that if the fatigue became too great for her, she might get picked off. It was important that she choose a position where she was well concealed so that she went unnoticed by anyone passing by. Houses were good cover, but they attracted attention – the wrong kind of attention. She'd head to a house after her nap, since that's where she'd find those who were playing and take them out. Trees would certainly keep her out of sight from anyone else, but Kim didn't want to risk falling out the branches while unconscious and snapping her neck on the ground.

Kim's thoughts continued as she emerged in a small clearing and nearly vomited. Three dead boys lay on the ground, with plenty of ground between them. Two were stabbed, and the third was missing his face, the definite work of a gun shot at point blanc. Kim turned to leave, when a thought occurred to her. It was so simple; she could rest and be in the open at the same time. Kim placed the nail gun inside her duffel bag and hung it on a branch on a nearby tree, out of sight. She approached one of the boys, deciding on the one who was shot, and lifted up his body slightly. She nearly threw up again from touching his already stiff body, but she swallowed it back down. She laid down and carefully allowed the corpse to fall on top of her back. She shivered as the dead weight pressed down on her, but Kim knew that no one would be able to tell if she was sleeping or dead. The corpse lying on top of her merely prevented anyone from getting close enough to check.

She shivered again, but shook it away, trying to think of anything except the dead body lying on her back. She allowed the song to enter her thoughts and she fought back the urge to sing along as it raced through her thoughts. And when the song ended inside her mind, Kim wished that she was anywhere else, even that hideously pointless, thrown together school-spirit event.

* * *

Paul rushed him first. The attack was straightforward and fast, and Bruce was waiting for it. He took a step back, throwing off Paul's depth perception and then lashed forward with his fist, nailing the boy in the throat. He coughed and stumbled back as Bruce rushed forward and landed two more punches to Paul's gut. The boy bent over, no longer grinning widely, and Bruce jumped up, planting a foot on Paul's back and leaping high in the air. He sailed over Peter's advancing body and aimed a kick at Sid face. The large gladiator swung hard with his shield and knocked Bruce to the side and out of the air. Bruce bounded up from the attack and stared as the three boys rushed him again.

He ducked and gripped a handful of sand, waiting for the opportune time and thrusting it at Sid's face. The large boy instantly threw his shield in the way and avoided the harm. Bruce dodged a kick from Peter and was suddenly knocked back by a strike to his back. Bruce fell and watched as Paul raised the hammer to crack open his skull. Bruce rolled away in a panic and was shocked as a noose was suddenly around his neck. He felt a foot on his back as the knot was tightened uncomfortably.

"Help me!" Peter called out and started dragging Bruce's body towards the forest line. Sid was the first one to help and he gripped the long end of the rope as well, significantly increasing the speed of dragging Bruce's struggling body. Paul fought back the urge to attack Bruce on the ground and instead joined his other two teammates and gripping the rope. The long end was tossed over a large branch and slowly the rope was pulled over than, all three boys tugging together. Soon Bruce dangled in the air, thrashing about as oxygen refused to enter his lungs.

"Heh…he's a piñata." Paul chuckled and gripped his hammer.

"No." Peter said, "I want him to suffer for killing Bonnie. So don't touch him. Let him squirm a little longer."

Bruce swayed as things became blurry. Slowly he reached behind himself and grabbed hold of the kitchen knife resting there. Quickly he pulled it out and began slashing at the rope right above his neck. He heard the three boys below him gasp and suddenly he was falling. Bruce crumpled to the ground and he desperately grasped as the noose around his neck. He loosened it a bit and some much needed air rushed into his lungs. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Paul racing at him and Bruce rolled out of the way. However, the rope jerked in Sid's strong grip and Bruce was choked again.

He quickly dodged two attacks from Paul and Bruce lashed out with his knife, nearly missing Paul's neck. Paul recoiled from the near miss and put some distance between himself and Bruce. Meanwhile, Bruce tugged at the rope and was finally able to pull it off his body. He gasped for air when his ears picked up on large footsteps approaching him from the side. He leapt aside as the dagger plunged into the sand where he had been standing. Bruce glared over at Paul and Sid, his grip tightening over the knife. His adrenaline pulsed inside his head and his instincts took over. Only two boys stood in his view. That meant that the third was behind him, most likely on the attack.

He reacted.

A swift spin and Peter extended his fist into empty space. Bruce lashed out with his blade and it sparkled with the reflections of stars before it sliced into the side of Peter's neck. He screamed in pain and Bruce backed off, watching the blood flow from his damaged jugular. Bruce stared at the blood staining the pure metal knife and he looked aside. His duffel bag lay where he had left it and he raced toward it. He grabbed it and raced off into the forest, dumbstruck as to what had just happened.

Paul and Sid gazed in shock for a moment as well, before Paul cried out, "Hurry, Sid! Don't let him get away!" Sid raced off in pursuit and Paul tended to Peter, who was still crying in pain.

"This way, the salt water will help the wound." Paul led Peter toward the crashing waves. Peter wasn't sure if salt water would help a deep cut to the neck, but he wasn't in the mood to argue. The two boys entered the water up to their knees when Paul shoved Peter away from him. Peter stumbled and glanced back just in time to see the hammer connect with his forehead. Everything spun around him and the world flashed white before he was beneath the water. Feeling very disoriented, Peter didn't even realize he needed air until his lungs were burning in his chest. He tried to lift his head but was surprised to feel pressure, keeping his head beneath the surface. He started thrashing around, prying at the hand that kept him down in the water.

"We've got no room in our group for dead weight." Paul grinned evilly as he pressed Peter's head into the ocean. The boy thrashed in the water, and his body convulsed as the water entered his lungs. Paul kept the pressure constant, and he waited until Peter no longer struggled under his grip. When Peter sunk down to the bottom in a dead limp, Paul finally let go and stepped back. He watched the corpse drift below the surface and his Cheshire cat grin spread over his face. He walked out of the surf and stooped to pick up the rope from the sand. He glanced back and noticed that Peter's body would soon wash up on shore.

He glanced into the forest and made his way inside, looking for his giant ally.

_I do my best work here on the beach, wouldn't you agree Donna?_

Flashing smile.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 48, 50, 56, 61, 64

Pending danger zones: 32

(22) Contestants remaining


	32. Gathering

"Is he dead?" Bruce (Boy #23) muttered between breaths. He wasn't asking anyone in particular since he was alone. But the question still remained.

_Is Peter_ (Boy #10)_ dead?_

Bruce stared down at the kitchen knife still clutched in his hand. He saw the blood that had already stained the glinting blade, Peter's blood. He closed his eyes and tried to return his breathing to normal, but he kept seeing Peter's shocked face as he clutched his bleeding throat. Bruce always knew he had the ability to kill inside of him. Ever since the day he started his self defense classes,he knew that someday it may come down to his life or someone else's. He just…didn't know what he was feeling.

Peter hated him. Peter nearly killed him, and he had others with him – those other boys who had tried to end Bruce as well. Bruce could have run away to avoid the fight, but he stayed. He stayed to finish the fight – what was he expecting? Did he expect them all to give up once he had beaten them bad enough?

And he had reacted. It had been so quick, so fluid. He had felt Peter's presence charging him from behind. A quick spin, a lashing with the knife, a deep cut, and it was over. Bruce had damaged Peter beyond repair - he was more than likely dead. Everything had been so flowing, so _easy._

_Was it that easy for Jeff to kill?_

Bruce wasn't sure what to think. At the beginning he had known. He had known right when The Program began he'd have to kill. Once he decided to protect his friends, it became necessary for him to kill. He knew this and had already come to terms with it, and yet the look of horror and gushing blood still remained in his mind.

Slowly Bruce calmed himself down. Now was not the time for him to lose it. He still had friends to find, and he needed to find them before it was too late. A noise brought him back to reality. They were most likely still looking for him. Together they might be able to bring him down, and Bruce knew that he was a threat to those who were playing. His skills in fighting gave him an extra edge, and his kitchen knife wasn't too shabby either. They were looking to kill him now, before he found allies and a better weapon.

Bruce waited momentarily until he was sure which way the sounds were coming from. Sliding his tainted kitchen knife into his back pocket, he quietly disappeared into the forest.

* * *

"I lost him." Sid (Boy #14) muttered as he noticed Paul (Boy #22) finally catching up to him.

"Damn." Paul replied, "That one's dangerous. He's going to be a tough one to take out."

The two began walking together in the woods, now looking for new prey. Sid's eyes settled on the rope dangling from Paul's duffel bag.

"Peter."

"He's probably dead." Paul replied, "There wasn't anything I could do to save him. He started yelling and rushing at me. The poor kid totally lost it. He tried to stab me with my own knife! So I ran away from him. I doubt he'll last much longer."

Sid nodded and the two continued onward, Paul no longer able to conceal his wide grin. Paul knew that he could tell Sid that Santa Claus had killed Peter, and the giant would have believed him. He was exactly the kind of mindless robot Paul needed to charge headlong into battle and decimate the enemy. However, sooner or later Paul would need to take Sid out. The kid was a monster, and who knew how much damage he would need before he finally fell. Paul was good at playing, but he doubted he'd be able to take Sid down on his own, and certainly not only with the knife and hammer he had in his possession.

That's what Paul needed. He needed a better weapon. His weapons were only good for close range battles, and it was known that there were some guns out there. With a pistol by his side, he'd have all his bases covered, not to mention have the upper hand in a fight against Sid. Well, he didn't know who had a pistol. But there was a certain small Asian boy who was carrying a shotgun…

Paul stopped and pulled out his map, Sid stopping immediately by his side. Paul moved his map around until he found a spot with enough moonlight and squinted to read the paper before him. He mentally drew a path to his location, a part located in the forest region where many homes were clustered together. A place he had been before. Where he had first encountered that defenseless boy and the one who had saved him. The one with the shotgun.

"Let's go here, Sid." Paul pointed to the area on the map and glanced up at the gladiator towering over him, "People are probably hiding in these houses. We'll find the people we're looking for here."

Sid nodded and two changed direction as they made their way to a definite destination. And Paul knew that somewhere inside one of those empty houses, an easy target with a powerful weapon was waiting for Paul to kill him.

* * *

Minh (Boy #6) left the large mass of people inside that crudely put together tent. He sighed, deeply breathing in the cold night air around him. He walked away from the gathering, letting the crunching snow beneath his sneakers drown out the words of the man speaking to everyone else still there. Everyone who was just like him.

The depression settled around him as the words continued to ring in his ears. He stared up at the open night sky and continued walking, slipping on the ice beneath his feet. Hurting his pride more than anything else, Minh stood and brushed the snow from his jacket, eying the frozen lake in the distance. Minh had loved iced over bodies of water when he was a kid. He could skate faster than anyone in his whole family, and he quickly learned some tricks, spinning quickly in the air before landing swiftly. He had wanted to be a figure skater, but his family had nudged him away from that, fearing that he may become too feminine. Wanting to remain on the ice, Minh had taken up hockey and his parents supported his decision with gusto, buying him top of the line equipment and not hesitating to drive him the 45 minutes to the nearest ice rink for practices. But Minh had quit after just one season. His small frame wasn't built for hockey. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't help but feel different from the other boys who played hockey.

_And I am different._

The words returned to him, no matter how hard he tried to suppress them.

* * *

"Choice. We humans are bombarded with many choices in our lifetime. What food to eat, what clothes to wear, where to live, what the study, what jobs to get. Everything is a choice. Choices determine who we are as people. We make choices based on our past experiences, our desires, and what we want for the future. Like all of you out there, I was once a young boy who had all these confusing emotions racing around inside me. I'd watch my older brothers bring girls home to meet our parents before they took them out to the movies or dinner or whatever. However, I'd be much more excited to meet my older brothers' teammates than their dates. When my parents took notice and began to worry about me, I found some girl who liked how I looked and we started "dating". This was more for show than anything, and soon she learned this. However, she and I became good friends and she continued the charade through high school. It wasn't until my second year in college that I had my first sexual experience with another man. He and I had had similar experiences in our past, and we were able to bond over them. But we didn't stay together very long, and I was left to deal with all these new feelings and issues alone. I finally approached a trusted adult with my problems and she told me about spiritual retreats, much like this one you all are on now. Twenty years later, here I am, speaking to all of you about my experiences so that you can avoid the pain I had to endure. I, just like you, had a choice. I didn't have to be a homosexual if I didn't want to be, just like you can all choose the correct path. It's not going to be easy-"

Minh shook his head and sighed deeply again. All the speeches had been the same. They were all people who had been gay, and through the power of God or choice or whatever, they were now reformed, healed, and happy. He just couldn't take another speech. He couldn't stand another person telling him what he could and could not do. He stood on the edge of the frozen lake and stared out at it, getting ready to step onto the ice and skate the problems away from his mind.

"You're different." The voice surprised Minh and he spun quickly. Another boy stood a few feet away from him, staring past him than directly at the Asian boy. Minh squinted in the darkness, but soon he recognized the face. He'd seen him around his school, and even in one of his classes. Nathan (Boy #19) was his name, or so Minh guessed.

_Nathan is gay?_

"You're different and you don't want to be." Nathan continued walking next to Minh and staring out at the lake, "You've tried everything you can think of to try and make yourself be normal. Maybe you've tried dating or watching heterosexual porn. But nothing seems to work, does it? Your parents are ashamed of you, the kids at school shun you, nobody understands you."

Minh glanced at the boy standing next to him, then out onto the lake, and finally down to his sneakers avoiding the sight of everything else as he tried to curl into a ball so that he couldn't hear Nathan's words anymore.

"But nothing works. Everything you try fails, and you feel so alone."

A tear formed at Minh's eye and he wiped it away immediately, almost hearing the slurs being thrown at him from other boys seeing him cry.

"You're not alone."

Minh's head snapped up and he gazed over to see that Nathan had removed his sight from the lake and stared at the Asian boy next to him. He stared into the caring eyes of his companion and then gazed away as Nathan continued.

"The people here, they don't understand. This is the third "retreat" my parents have sent me. They're all the same. All these people they have speak to us are the ones who were once like us at these retreats. They listened to the words of other people and believed that they could be happy being someone else besides themselves. They say they understand, but they don't. Not anymore. Ever since they denied who they are, they no longer understand us."

Minh nodded but he didn't respond. He didn't dare say anything out of fear of suddenly bursting out and sobbing. All his fears and his anxieties over the course of his life had been an open book for this boy to read, and Minh couldn't control it anymore. The fear of not being accepted, the anxiety of not finding happiness, the shame of his parents. That hurt the most – the shame was what cut his heart into the most pieces. Everyone else he could ignore. It was that look of disappointment in his mother's face or that one bitter word from his father that hurt the most.

"But I understand you." Nathan said. Again, Minh didn't dare respond. "You're Minh, aren't you?"

Minh reacted instantly, his head snapping up in shock and his mouth open in surprise. Before he could even ask the many questions floating inside his head, Nathan smiled and interrupted him, "I've seen you around school. I thought that I'd see you at one of these retreats sooner or later. At school, you always look so scared that someone's just gonna jump out of a locker and stab you for being gay."

Minh smiled and his gaze fell on his sneakers.

"Well, I said all I wanted," Nathan turned and Minh gazed up at him slowly walking away, "If you ever want someone to talk-"

"I don't want to be alone anymore." Minh said another tear forming in his eye. However, he felt no shame this time and he left it alone. Nathan spun around in slight surprise, but then he smiled and returned to Minh's side.

"You don't have to be alone anymore."

* * *

Minh's eyes snapped open and the dark empty room stretched out before him. Over by the window, Nathan sat staring out into the moonlit night. In his hands, he shuffled the deck of cards given to him and by his side sat the shotgun that Nathan could grab in an instant for protection. Nathan's eyes darted over to Minh's figure as the boy stirred and then stretched.

"You weren't sleeping very long. You could get some more if you want."

"No, I'm fine." Minh replied and stretched the aches out of his body, "You can catch some Z's now."

Nathan nodded and he glanced out the window one last time before leaving his post. Minh walked over to the window and took a seat, gazing out into the shadows. He gripped the shotgun in his hands for the sense of security it added and sighed deeply. The fear was still fresh inside his mind, but he felt safer now that Nathan was with him. The Program was so much more frightening if there was no one there with you.

"Did you have a good dream?" Nathan asked from the dark corner of the room in which he was curled into a little ball.

"Sure did." Minh replied with a smile.

"Was I in it?" Nathan murmured as the exhaustion quickly took hold of him.

"Of course." Minh replied.

"Did I use protection?" Nathan chuckled twice before sleep overcame him and he passed in unconsciousness. Minh chuckled along with him and then returned his gaze to the world outside his window. So many people had died already. That meant that there were a bunch of people out there who were playing. There had been that boy who had nearly killed Nathan with that crossbow. Minh was lucky he had found them when he had. But that boy was still out there. And he'd be back. Minh shivered but glanced over at Nathan quietly snoozing on the floor. A sense of purpose overcame him and he stared out the window in search of movement.

"I'm not alone anymore."

* * *

Ariana (Girl #18) emerged on the beach. She glanced left and right, but could see no one. She had hoped that a target had decided to stay close to the beach thinking that no one would stand out in the open, and therefore be all alone there. Ariana supposed it was some form of reverse-reverse psychology, but from what she could tell, no one had been thinking in that fashion, since the beach was devoid of all contestants.

She sighed and walked over to the waves crashing on the shore, staring out at the vast ocean that stretched before her. Her mind raced over salt water ecosystems and the types of invertebrates that live in the water. She shook the knowledge away since it served no purpose at that moment, and instead focused on the knowledge that mattered – danger zones, death rates of contestants, potential weapons. Her brilliant mind raced through all the knowledge her mind contained and suddenly stopped as she muttered, "Nine levels of hell."

A confused look crossed her own face and she attempted to shake Dante's _Inferno_ from her mind. Instead, a feminine face appeared in its place. Genevive (Girl #21) stared directly at her as she murmured a single a question.

"_What happens to your soul?"_

Genevive's face was blown back as a bullet ripped through her skull and Ariana cringed as a gun shot echoed through the empty silence. Her eyes snapped open and she crouched down to the ground, looking around for the person who had fired the gun. In her fractured left arm she gripped the tire iron as best she could and in her right she held the semi-automatic. It wasn't until she determined she was alone that Ariana realized she had fired her own gun. Cursing at herself, Ariana raced back into the cover of the forest, knowing that her mistake would draw attention to her location.

Once again safely hidden among the trees, Ariana began walking along the forest line. She hadn't seen anyone while she was on the beach, but there was good deal of it to cover. She'd keep walking along the line looking for an easy target standing out in the open. After that, she'd head to the areas that contained houses. Many people would be looking for shelter to rest, and there would be many sitting (or sleeping) ducks to eliminate. She continued her prowl, her mind still returning to Genevive's face being blown away by a bullet.

_Why does her face keep haunting me?_

A large object floating in the water caught Ariana's attention. From the limited moonlight, she could tell that a body was floating in the water. Since she couldn't gain anything from a corpse, she pressed on. However, she decided that a quick inspection of the body would be beneficial. After all, Ariana was clearly not the only person playing in The Program. If she could determine what had killed the body, then she'd have an idea of what kind of weapons were being used by the other contestants.

With a quick glance Ariana emerged from the forest yet again. Hurriedly, she ran down to the water's edge and grabbed hold of the body making its way to being washed up on shore. She flipped him onto his back and saw the deep cut to the side of his neck. She also made note of the wound to the boy's forehead. However, it was quite clear that he had been drowned. Ariana determined how stiff the boy's arms and legs were and decided that he had died very, _very _recently. She returned to the beach and glanced down at the disturbed sand she had overlooked earlier. She noticed some blood in the sand and how the footprints raced off into the forest.

Ariana smirked and reentered the woods, doing the best she could to track the contestants who had been at the beach before she had gotten there.

* * *

Mr. Smith sipped some coffee from his comfortable chair and leaned back, the operas of Beethoven softly playing near him. He didn't really need the coffee to stay awake – the excitement of the game did that for him. You never knew when another death would be reported or when alliances would be made. Children were always so difficult to predict. However, one thing was always predicted – there was always a winner.

He put his cup down and swung his fingers in the air as if the man was conducting his own symphony. The singing rose significantly and Mr. Smith hummed along with it, letting the music carry him away.

"Sir."

"What is it?" Mr. Smith asked irritably, "Another death?"

"No, sir," the subordinate replied.

"Then don't bother me."

"But sir, I just thought you should see this."

Mr. Smith sighed in frustration. These new recruits always thought they should report every little detail to him, when Mr. Smith couldn't care less. As the overseer of The Program, he always received a complimentary copy of the season's highlights which always displayed to him everything of importance that occurred during the battle.

"Is it our wonderful Boy #22 again?" Mr. Smith asked, "That boy has more ambition than even I expected when we scouted for this season's antagonist. Has the showdown between him and the very devoted Boy #23 occurred yet? I'm expecting that one to be especially-"

"Look." The officer replied and pointed to a screen where all the locations of the remaining contestants flashed.

"So they're moving to the suburban areas. Big deal. That's why we added them in the playing field in the first place – to attract attention and increase encounters." Mr. Smith turned away and moved back toward his chair.

"But sir," the officer replied, "It looks like a good deal of them are either already there or on their way."

"Why do you insist on explaining the obvious, soldier?"

"Sir...I'm sorry."

"As you should be. I'm very aware that having a big group form is bad news. Most likely when that happens, a large scale alliance is formed and more times than naught, we have to eliminate them all and start the season again from scratch. But that's why we included the "damaged" people like Jeff, the troublemakers like Gloria (Girl #22) and Isaac (Boy #16), and the morally questionable like Paul (Boy #21) and our lovely Girl #18, Ariana. If they're all headed to the same place, all I can hope for is that the battle is the most spectacular one we've seen thus far."

"Sir." The officer nodded and walked off as Mr. Smith finally returned to his chair and Beethoven. He swung hand, leading the symphony, and took a sip of coffee with the other.

_Maybe we'll see a new record with this large-scale chance encounter._

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 48, 50, 56, 61, 64

Pending danger zones: 32

(22) Contestants remaining


	33. The Servant

Isaac (Boy #16) drowsily rolled onto his side, his disconnected thoughts drifting around aimlessly inside his head. He sighed deeply, feeling the tug of fatigue nearly drawing him back into unconsciousness. A slight discomfort from his temple caused Isaac to stir again, trying to brush the protrusion away from his body. The pebble flew away from him and clattered off into the distance. But somewhere deep inside his mind, something finally clicked in his head. His eyes snapped open and he jumped to his feet. However, he was still disoriented to spring into action and he clumsily fell back to the ground. A large pit formed inside his stomach and his mind raced back to the last thing he could remember.

_That couple. I let them go. That girl, she wrapped my hand._

He raised his bandaged appendage to ensure that he had not imagined it and then inhaled deeply in order to attempt to calm himself. It worked only briefly as a new, more important question entered his thoughts.

_How long was I out?_

He reached into his duffel bag which was still close by, and pulled out the watch. He squinted in the darkness, and took a second to recognize the hands of the watch instead of a digital clock, and suddenly his heart jumped into his throat. He'd been unconscious for a while – too long. He'd missed an announcement, which gave out the most vital information in The Program. The danger zones. He'd missed the danger zones. It was already a little after two which, assuming that the danger zones were assigned as they had been before, meant that an area had just become a danger zone. And seeing as how he was still alive, Isaac clearly had not been in the forbidden area. Not yet, at least. Another area would be a danger zone at four, which gave him a little less than two hours to find someone and take the necessary information from them.

Isaac stood and pulled his map from his duffel bag. He glanced at it, looking for any landmarks that may help him identify where he was currently located. He had no such luck. However, it was very evident that he was still in the forest. And he had a general idea of where he was located. And while that was helpful, it didn't solve his problem. What he needed was a victim. Someone who had heard the necessary information had written it down for Isaac to take. And it would also be nice if this victim had a nice weapon. He definitely wasn't disappointed with his katana, he had taken down a decent number of contestants with the sword by his side. But as useful as it was, there were certainly better weapons out there. Firing weapons, for example.

There were two residential areas on the map. Both had been marked on the map and chock full of empty houses. Full of hiding places. Night was a frightful time in The Program. Even the bravest contestants were reduced to their four-year-old states as the fear of the darkness and the untold horrors it contained caused each person to shiver.

_They'll be looking for shelter._

Of the two possible areas, one was already coated with danger zones. That meant the safer to choice to be the residential region located in the eastern part of the playing field. Unless, of course, more danger zones had been added to that area during the announcement he had missed. That, however, was a risk he needed to take. There would definitely be at least one contestant in that area, and that was what he needed above all else at that moment. He wondered if Gloria (Girl #22) was still alive.

Isaac glanced at his compass and began walking east, completely unaware that he was not the only contestant making his way toward that same region.

* * *

"You say so little, I didn't even realize you felt something for me until you said something."

Sid (Boy #14) merely nodded in agreement, and continued to stare at the empty space before him, too embarrassed to stare at her directly in the eyes. They sat together on the park bench in the dead of the night. There was no moon on that night, but the stars twinkled brightly in an attempt to compensate. The lampposts set up throughout the park were the primary source of light, but even they were not very efficient. They were alone in the dark, but that didn't worry either of them. Somehow, they both liked it better that no one else was around.

Janelle (Girl #10) twisted around in her seat to get a better look at him, but he offered no visible reaction, and refused to glance at her. She edged a little closer to him and Sid's face flared a bright red as he subtly moved an inch away from her. Janelle noticed, but was not offended by the hesitation.

"You're very shy, aren't you?" she teased. Again he nodded without saying anything, and it occurred to Janelle how difficult it had been for him to admit how he felt about her. But they were alone, and Janelle felt no shame in helping him along a little.

They were both members of the same gang and were in contact with each other frequently, since both had been among the first people to join the Salvador's (Boy #17) gang. As far as Janelle knew, Sid had been the first member, immediately becoming Salvador's right hand thug. And she liked Sid too, but she wanted to make sure that a relationship would exist, instead of a purely sexual connection. Janelle had been in too many of those kinds of relationships to know they never lasted for very long, and she wanted a change. Sid didn't look like the kind of man who was driven solely by hormones, but you never knew with boys who were involved in gangs. For all she knew, Sid acted the way he did because he was constantly under the influence of some drug, but for some reason she doubted that as well.

A talk with Sid would tell Janelle all she needed to know. If he put in the extra effort to have a conversation with her, she would know that he'd put that effort into their relationship. After all, she didn't want complete silence every time she was alone with Sid. How he reacted next would determine her decision.

"You've known Salvador a long time." Janelle said and Sid reacted slightly, clearly thrown off by her statement. He nodded slowly and waited for her to finish her thought. "How did you two meet?"

A question that Sid couldn't answer with a grunt or a quick shake of his head. Janelle was asking him to tell her a story. She wanted to know that there was more going on inside of his head than the simple task of following orders. He sighed softly, realizing that he needed to go even further outside his comfort zone for her. But Janelle was worth it, and he wouldn't disappoint.

"Did you know that Salvador is rich?"

Janelle immediately shook her head and edged closer to Sid as he prepared to speak again. This time, however, Sid didn't edge away from her.

"His family's loaded. I'm not just talking about upper class, I mean Bill Gates rich. Their family ancestry is full of people who discovered oil, endorsed popular inventions, successful in business. Whatever they touched flourished, and the millions rolled in. My parents are both servants in the mansion of Salvador's family. They met there and were married, their wedding graciously paid for by Salvador's parents. I was born around the same time as Salvador, and we'd play together every day. I guess you'd call us friends, but even at a young age, I was encouraged to follow the wishes of Salvador over my own. You see, my father had been the servant of Salvador's father, my grandfather the servant of his grandfather, and so on. My parents encouraged me to be very respectful of the family that had supported my own over the years, and it was expected that someday I would serve Salvador.

"But Salvador hated the rich lifestyle. The expectations were too high for him to achieve and, despite his healthy allowance, he was incredibly bored with his everyday life. He wanted more, and after an argument with his father that rocked the entire mansion, Salvador stormed out, and I was told by both my parents and his parents to follow him. That was the day we started the gang. He talked about living his life the way he wanted and surviving on his own. I think he had something to prove to his father.

"The first few weeks were tough. We slept on park benches, or rather he slept on park benches while I slept beneath them. We had to steal to eat, and we had a few close calls with other gangs that were forming at that too. But when Salvador's parents realized that he was not coming home, I was summoned back without Salvador being aware of it. His parents gave me some money and I headed back to Salvador, telling him that I had robbed some rich guy, knowing that he wouldn't have taken the money otherwise. That was really all we needed, since the small amount from his parents had been enough to buy plenty of food, not to mention the old building that our headquarters is now inside.

"From there, he formed the gang as it is today. We still get some financial help from his parents that Salvador is still unaware of, but otherwise, we are for the most part self-sufficient. You know the rest of the story, since you joined the gang early on."

Sid took a deep breath and stretched his jaw, not used to talking that much all at once. He glanced over at Janelle and saw her smiling at him. His face flushed red again and he turned away, staring off at the partially revealed objects in the park. A fountain gurgled in the distance and a soft breeze rushed through the trimmed hedges nearby. As much as he wanted to, Sid couldn't bring himself to look at her.

"You're very loyal." Janelle whispered as she cuddled up against him. Sid clearly his throat uncomfortably and wanted to edge away, but found himself at the end of the bench – he had no where else to go. "I like that in a boyfriend."

Sid spun to face her in shock and before he knew it, she was kissing him. His initial thought was to push her back, but slowly that thought left him and he let himself get lost in the moment. Janelle felt his large arms wrap around her and she couldn't help but feel safe in his embrace. Slowly she broke the kiss and stared deep into his eyes as he stared back at her, his gaze not breaking for an instant.

"So how about we finish that walk you invited me to take with you in the first place."

Sid nodded without saying anything, and Janelle smiled, knowing that Sid wouldn't change too drastically. In fact, she doubted that he'd change at all. But at least she knew that Sid would talk to her. That he'd learn he wouldn't have to be a servant all his life if he didn't want to be. That he'd find his own voice, and maybe use it every once in a while.

The couple walked off into the oblivion of the city park, hand-in-hand. The stars sparkled high above them and held promises of love for both of them, but a little later. For now, the moment was perfect. But the moment was quickly shattered as three members from a rival gang suddenly appeared in the path before them. Their hands remained joined as they reached for their concealed weapons and prepared to a brawl – together.

* * *

"This way." Paul (Boy #21) led the way as Sid followed close behind. The gladiator was melancholy, his mind clearly on other matters. Janelle was forever lost to him. No matter what he did, nothing would bring her back. No one had treated him the way she had, so caring and strong. When everyone around him, even his parents, told him to be subservient, she had told him to be independent, to be strong, to be heard. She made him feel what no one else ever had – important. And he loved her for it. She knew that there was more going on inside his head than anyone else could guess. He continued to follow orders, all the while he was planning. He was planning to leave the gang. The next "allowance" from Salvador's parents and he and Janelle would be gone. He'd only need to hint that Salvador would need a good deal of money, half a million or so, and his parents would hand it over, not even recognizing how much that quantity of cash would buy in the real world. One more meeting and he and Janelle could be happy together.

He hadn't counted on The Program, but then again, who did? He had wanted to surprise Janelle with his plan, to show her just how she inspired him. But now she was dead, and no amount of money could change that. However, he still had his trump card. Everyone still thought of him as the perfect servant. Salvador had never seen it coming. But Sid supposed that was how betrayal worked. But he felt no shame in his actions, he had betrayed Salvador, but he had been betrayed first – when Janelle was stolen from him. Luna (Girl #5) may have killed her, but she was not the only one who caused Janelle's death. The entire gang was to blame, and they had all paid the price for Janelle. All except one.

"We're almost there." Paul whispered and Sid grunted in agreement, his eyes falling on the boy in front of him. Paul was very dangerous, even Sid could see that. Sid knew that Paul wanted to eliminate him, and the only thing stopping him was the fact that Sid would win a fair fight. Once the odds were tipped in his favor, Paul would attack. Sid would make sure it never got that far. For the time being, Sid kept Paul around. He knew that Luna had a revolver in her possession, and if nothing else, Paul would draw her fire. Once she was taken out of the picture, Sid would need to kill his ally immediately, before he claimed the revolver for his own. He'd never see it coming. He was as blind as Salvador had been.

_He'll never see it coming._

The two boys finally reached the edge of the forest. Before them stood the gutted houses like giant square statues against the night sky. With barely any trees amongst the homes, the moonlight shone completely unfiltered to the ground. Nearly everything was visible in the revealing light, and for that reason the warrior and his grinning ally remained hidden in the shadows.

Paul scanned the houses, looking for any type of movement. It was relatively difficult to see in the windows, since the glare from the moon made the pieces of glass bright reflective surfaces. It was dangerous to move in the open, nearly as dangerous as taking a stroll along the open beach. But Paul was in no rush. His prey was waiting, and he'd find him soon enough.

A momentary flash from the window off to the side caught Paul's attention, and he immediately turned his head. The reflection was gone, but in its place was a small round face with almond eyes. Paul's devilish trademark grin spread wide over his face and he spun to face Sid.

"I found him."

* * *

Gloria was dozing off and she knew it. That was the problem. Despite the fatigue that clawed at her, she was far too aware of her situation to allow herself to fall asleep. She lay curled up in a little ball on the second floor of one of the empty homes and stared up at the window and the visible sky from her position. All it could do was remind her of where she was, and what possibly lurked outside that window.

The Program was taking its toll on her. The fear and anxiety she had avoided early in the game was now coming back to haunt her. She'd had Isaac then, and then she had that army of females, followed by that group trying to escape. She'd be alone since that entourage had completely disbanded, and it was starting to wear on her. She was beginning to understand why people who were alone during The Program lost their minds.

She rolled over on the hard ground with her back to the window, and she instead stared at the wall directly in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye the closed door to the room remained closed. But Gloria couldn't break away her gaze from it, no matter how she tried. Her eyes were drawn to the sole entrance to the room, almost as if she expected it to burst open and some maniac with a machine gun to spray bullets in every direction.

Gloria moved from her awkward position on the floor and moved to the door. She carefully cracked it open and peered out, seeing nothing but darkness. She quietly closed it again and leaned her back up against it. She brought her legs in close and leaned her chin upon her knees. For some reason she felt the urge to cry, but shook it away, deciding that her lack of sleep was playing games with her mind. Her eyelids became very heavy and she carefully closed them, her heart beating loudly inside her chest. Again she felt herself drifting off into sleep, when she snapped her head up, listening intently for any noise. She could have sworn she heard some sort of noise, but apparently it had been her imagination.

She sighed and stood up, walking to the window. She stood off to the side, so that she was not directly in the line of sight and stared out at the night before her. It was shockingly bright out; the moon was still relatively full and from the looks of it, could have been only a mile above the Earth from the amount of light it gave off. She supposed that that was a good thing, since she'd be able to spot other contestants much easier.

Gloria saw them immediately. They stood partially hidden by the shadows of the trees by the forest edge. She watched them mumble to each other, or rather, one was talking while the other nodded. She squinted and was surprised as to the size of one of the boys she saw. He was very large, and from the look of it, very muscular as well. From the safety of her window, Gloria watched the two boys stealthily sneak off among the houses. She glanced behind her at the duffel bag that lay in the middle of the barren floor. She watched it almost as if she expected it to move, her mind picturing the two grenades and the machete it contained.

_Maybe one more battle will help me get some sleep._

She could tell that the two boys she had seen would not go down easily, especially that large one. Had he been carrying a shield? It didn't make any difference to her. Those two grenades would give her all the protection she needed, and the machete would finish the job. She walked over and clutched the duffel bag and left the room, removing her machete and clutching it in her hand. She wondered if Isaac was still alive.

* * *

Ariana (Girl #18) had lost the trail. She had tracked her prey for a considerable distance from the beach, but she had had a little trouble when she lost their pathway and had drifted off course. She now stood in the middle of a small graveyard and she impatiently produced her map. Mentally she made a path of her trek along the paper and used her compass to determine her location. She glanced around at the three male bodies and the one female body that littered the ground, doing her best to identify them. One boy was missing a face, which made him difficult to recognize, but the other two merely had cut wounds, and their faces were intact. Her attention was particularly drawn to the girl, who appeared to be asleep rather than dead. Ariana could detect no wounds to her by merely looking at her.

"Just to be sure…" Ariana murmured as she aimed the gun she held at Kim's (Girl #15) sleeping head. Her finger closed the distance to the trigger when a sudden noise nearby caused her to jump. She pulled the gun away and scanned her surroundings for any intruders, but couldn't see anyone. The sound had been unrecognizable, but certainly audible. Whatever it had been, she decided that it had originated further away from her than she had previously thought. Cautiously, Ariana lowered her gun exhaling slowly, and turned back to Kim. She sighed and decided that shooting her would be a waste of ammo, since Kim looked as dead as the other bodies in the area.

She returned to the map and the mental line she had drawn on it. She stared at it, marking the position where she had first lost the trail.

_They were heading north from the beach. So if they continued north…_

Ariana silently cursed herself for being so stupid. They were heading for the residential area - that was the only thing that made sense. Where else would people go to either look for more victims or for shelter? She grabbed her compass and quickly made her way back into the forest, pushing the foliage out of her way as she hurriedly made her way toward the populated area. Perhaps she'd even run into the person she'd heard a minute before, and claim another victim before she reached the residential area.

Behind her, Kim unconsciously stirred in her sleep. The corpse she had placed on top of her slid off her body, revealing her healthy and unwounded body. Luckily for her, Ariana was already far enough away that she didn't hear or notice the movement of the girl she assumed to be a corpse. Kim had just missed getting her head blown off, but her disguise as a corpse would no longer work.

She slept on.

* * *

Jeff (Boy #22) sighed in frustration. He was getting sloppy. He stood up from the ground, angry at himself for not only being clumsy enough to trip over his own feet, but also for being stupid enough to cry out in surprise. He was sure someone had heard him, and that made it slightly dangerous for him to remain in that spot. After all, all the major players would come looking for a victim, while all the easy kills would run in the other direction. But everything was fine, since he had no intention of remaining in that spot. He was on his way toward the area that contained all the empty houses. He had set off for that place long ago, but had been distracted too easily. The first time he had come up empty-handed, not finding a single contestant to battle. The second time he had been luckier, and had claimed two more victims, but had gained a wound of his own. Jeff adjusted his shirt that was tied around his torso, and checked to make sure the cut to his back was bleeding a little less profusely.

He pulled out his compass to make sure he was headed in the correct direction, and he put it away after deciding that he was. Jeff knew there would be plenty of victims there for him, the tough part would be making them stay in one place so that he could slowly eliminate them one at a time. He wondered if he would find any of his friends there.

He wondered how he would kill them.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 48, 50, 56, 61, 64

Pending danger zones: 32

(22) Contestants remaining


	34. Life is Worth Dying For

Minh (Boy #6) wasn't sure if it was some sort of defense mechanism. It made sense since death seemed to be all around him, but it didn't feel exactly healthy to him. Still, it was something to get his mind off the reality of The Program. He, just like every other contestant in the playing field, had been given immunity from any consequences that resulted from their performance in The Program. But that was just a bunch of multi-syllable words they strung together to make the rule acceptable to the masses, should any of them notice it. In other words, every contestant could do whatever the hell they wanted in The Program without fear of being charged with murder or any other form of crime.

He could remember a few years back when a bunch of parents raised a giant commotion, demanding that the winner be charged with the murder of all his classmates, among other things. The case didn't even make it to court. And when two of the parents were later found dead, no one ever dared to make such demands again. Self-defense was automatically assigned to the winner, despite what their performance may have revealed. However, the immunity lasted for only three days, and the winner was constantly surrounded by guards until that time to prevent them from taking advantage of this immunity in other ways. Minh wasn't completely sure why the law stated that it lasted three full days instead of the moment of time when The Program was officially declared complete. He guessed it had something to do with some regulation he wasn't aware of. Or maybe it was due to the fact that The Program never lasted for the exact same amount of time.

Whatever the reason, Minh had been given the ability to kill anyone he wanted, without the worry of repercussions. Granted, he was restricted to the playing field, but what if that was not the case?

_If I could kill anyone without any consequences, who would it be?_

Well, there was always Celine Dion, but that was a given. After all, who didn't want that bitch dead? Minh was pretty sure that even Canadians didn't like her for making them look worse as a country, which was pretty hard to do in the first place. But then again, Canada did have a younger drinking age and no Battle Royale, so maybe it wasn't all that bad.

Tom Cruise was another good choice. Minh couldn't figure out why he ever made it big in Hollywood. He thought actors either needed to be good looking or have talent. But Tom Cruise had neither of those, so how in the hell did he keep getting work? He single-handedly ruined the movie _Vanilla Sky_ – the Spanish version that came first, _Abre Los Ojos_, was much better. Actually, Minh had to take that back, since the other two stars in that movie weren't all that much better. Could anyone actually understand what Penelope Cruz was saying? And Cameron Diaz's bad acting was only outdone by her role in the _Charlie's Angels_ movies. And didn't she have that show on MTV for a little while? Minh couldn't remember it. Cameron Diaz would be a very satisfying kill.

And then there was that man who had been on that American Idol show. The one that had so bad that he was given a record deal just so that he could sing more and people could laugh at him. What had been his name? William something. Man, he had been awful. And Minh had taken slight offense to the whole spectacle. His parents had a noticeable accent too, and he'd have gotten angry if anyone laughed at them for sounding different. William Jung! That was his name. He made all Asians look bad.

Minh sighed and refocused his eyes, returning to reality. Nothing had caught his attention while he had spaced out there for a bit, and the absolute absurdity of his thoughts did comfort him a little. He was pretty sure that he was losing his mind, though. And that was a not very promising.

Nathan continued to snooze over on the opposite side of the room. Minh glanced over at him, thinking about Nathan's description of his tribulations early in the game. He couldn't even imagine what it must have felt like to be shot with a nail. And from the sound of it, it was very convenient Lauren (Girl #16) had stopped to help him. And then there was the fact that he'd had the extreme good fortune not to wander into a danger zone since he had no map or compass, not to mention any food or water. Minh didn't eat much, so he didn't mind sharing. It just shocked him how incredibly lucky Nathan had been. So many things had gone wrong for him, and yet so many things had gone right, and there he was, slightly injured, but still very much alive, asleep on the floor. Minh had been lucky too, since he had found Nathan just in time. They'd both been very, very lucky. Minh wondered how long their luck would last.

His thoughts drifted to that moment in time when he had just barely saved Nathan's life. He remembered how the boy stood directly over him, the crossbow aimed directly at Nathan's face. He saw Nathan cowering, and even saw him wince as the boy's finger touched the trigger. Minh hadn't even had time to think. He reacted, and he remembered seeing the crossbow explode into many wooden splinters. But what he remembered most, what distinctly stood out in his mind, was that smile. The sickening, sadistic grin as he prepared to put an arrow through Nathan's forehead.

_Him. If I could kill anyone without any consequences, it would be him._

The door to the empty room burst open with a crash and a large figure loomed in the doorway. The sudden movement and noise caused Minh to drop to the floor, desperately grasping for his shotgun. Nathan jerked awake and tried to stand, but the large figure rushed at him, knocking him back and to the floor once again. Minh finally got a firm grip on the large gun and aim it at the large target. He pulled the trigger and prepared his small body for the heavy recoil. The gladiator whipped to face the tiny Asian, both his arms gripping the metal shield before him. The spray hit dead center and dented the shield, sending the giant backwards into the wall. A few pellets were deflected off the metal barrier and hit the surrounding walls. Minh prepared to reload the shotgun when he saw a smile enter through the doorframe and speedily make its way toward him. He recognized the smirk immediately and snarled in the darkness.

Paul (Boy #21) swung down hard with his hammer, but missed completely. Instead he struck out with his knife, but again he missed. Minh swung the heavy gun in his hands, slamming it against Paul's grinning chin. Paul flew back and Minh quickly reloaded his weapon, the empty shell clattering to the ground. He aimed at Paul's crouching figure in the shadows.

"Laugh at this!" Minh spat as he prepared to fire. Sid (Boy #14) slammed his shield into the small boy and the gun went off, the spray harmlessly hitting the wall directly above Paul's grounded body. Paul was quickly up on his feet and prepared to charge Minh when a punch connected with the side of his face. Nathan growled in the dark room and swung out his foot catching Paul in the stomach. Paul lashed out with his knife, grazing Nathan's extended thigh. He cried out and swung a hard hook, hitting Paul again in the face.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the room, Minh was using his wiry body to avoid the lunges made by Sid's dagger. However, he found himself with no time to reload the shotgun. Sid continued with his slashes and was effectively using his shield to pin Minh against the wall. The small boy quickly ducked a strike to stab the dagger into his neck, and using his powerful skating legs, rocketed upwards, using his shotgun as a large blunt object and connecting with Sid's powerful arm, sending it straight up toward the ceiling. Lightning fast, Minh reloaded the powerful and fired at Sid point blanc. The entire spray smacked into his shield and nearly broke through it, but instead sent the gladiator flying backwards the length of the room. He thudded against the wall with a grunt and distracted the other two boys fighting in the room. Minh quickly reloaded the weapon a final time and took aim at Paul. Paul saw the incoming shot and quickly made his way to the side of the room, leaping in the air and crashing through the window.

"This time he doesn't get away!" Minh called to Nathan and followed the grinning boy out the window.

"Minh, wait!" Nathan called out and followed suit, launching himself from the window. Sid shook the ringing sensation out of his head. He gasped for the air that had rushed from his lungs and waited for the room to stop spinning. He looked around and noticed that he was the last person in the empty room. Staggering to his feet, he gazed at the broken window and heard voices from outside. He knew he needed to return to the battle, and quick. Paul wouldn't last very long on his own, and then it would be the two of them versus himself. Or worse, Paul won and claimed the shotgun for himself. Neither of those things could happen. Sid walked to the wall, giving himself a running start, and then rushed forward out the open window and into the air where the battle continued on the ground below him.

* * *

"You smile a lot." Donna (Girl #7) cuddled close to Paul on his couch while a movie played on the television before them, "Why are you always so happy?"

"Why shouldn't I be happy?" Paul replied taking his eyes of the movie and staring down at his girlfriend instead. His wide smile spread all over his face as he continued, "I have a life. What could be better?"

"Not every part of life is happy, Paul." Donna averted her gaze and her father's face flashed in her mind for a moment.

"I know that," he replied continuing to gaze at her and continuing to smile, "But the sad times in our life help us define our happy ones. We appreciate them more, work harder for them."

"You're so deep, Paul." She cooed at him and cuddled a little closer.

"We can't focus all of our time and attention on the pain in our lives, Donna," Paul continued almost oblivious to her last comment, "Life is something to be enjoyed. As soon as we think we've begun, we die and our life is lost. There are so many out there who are completely miserable, and they don't even realize they're wasting their life away. Happiness isn't just something that happens to you if you deserve it or want it. You have to actively chase after it, and appreciate the small things when they are available. Everyone feels pain, Donna. But we can all get through the pain if we just recognize that happiness is available to us at all times, if we're willing to work for it, to fight for it."

Donna didn't say anything, totally enraptured once again in the movie playing before them. She watched Tom Cruise standing at the top of the building, looking over the edge and preparing to jump.

_Tom Cruise is so cute, and such a good actor too. And so is Cameron Diaz. They should get married and have good looking babies that are also great actors._

"So, Paul, he's in some virtual world right now? When did he go under, again? God, this movie is so confusing, but it's so good!"

"…"

"Paul?"

He wasn't listening. His eyes stared straight ahead at the television before them, but his mind was elsewhere. It was deep inside his memories, the day of his father's funeral. It reminded him of why he worked, why he fought.

_Life is worth working for. Life is worth fighting for._

* * *

Gloria (Girl #22) could hear loud shots, but was unable to find where they were coming from. Ever since she followed those two boys she had spotted around the corner of a house, she had lost sight of them. But she could hear them fighting now. If only she could determine where the noises where coming from. Shattering glass caught her attention and Gloria spun around to see Paul descend from the air and land on the ground in a roll. Minh was next, his duffel bag swung over his shoulder, firing his shotgun in the air, but missing horribly. He cocked the shotgun and prepared to fire again as the third boy descended from the window. Minh again fired the shotgun, once again missing his target. Paul rushed forward with his hunting knife, only to get intercepted by Nathan and quickly knocked back.

Gloria watched from the shadows, digging in her bag for a grenade. She firmly gripped one and prepared to draw the pin from it when she remembered that the very large boy she had seen was not present. Sid suddenly flew out from the window, taking part of its frame along with his girth. He sailed down toward the ground, his dagger aimed staright for the top of Minh's head, who was completely oblivious to the attack as he aimed his shotgun yet again at Paul who was engaging Nathan in combat. Nathan, however, witnessed the gladiator emerge from the window and ran to Minh, shoving him out of harm's way just in time. His gun went off as he toppled to the side and sailed wide of Paul's head.

From the nearby shadows, Gloria readied her grenade as she watched the battle continue. Her eyes settled on the shotgun, a very useful weapon indeed. The small Asian boy would be her main target – the three other boys would be easy targets once that powerful gun was in her possession. However, Gloria couldn't seem to find an area that a good portion of the boys occupied. They moved around so sporadically and so quickly, that she was positive that her grenade would do nothing except alert the four boys of her presence. She placed the grenade carefully back into her duffel bag and instead pulled out her machete. She'd need to time it just right. She'd wait until the small boy was close and then she'd jump out and cleave his head before grabbing the shotgun.

She took a deep, long, quiet breath. And waited.

* * *

"You were in the last war, right Dad?" Connor (Boy #4) stared at his father seated opposite him at the kitchen table. From behind the newspaper, Connor could hear his father sighing very deeply. The grey paper was slowly lowered and his father's suspicious eyes stared at him over at Connor.

"Yes, son." The newspaper was slowly raised, but before it could be reestablished, Connor spoke again.

"What was it like?"

Another deep sigh.

"It doesn't matter. You're never going to have to find out, so there's no reason to talk about it."

"Because you won't let me join the service?"

"Connor, I've seen some terrible things during the war. I refuse to let you see the horrors I had to face."

"But Charlie-"

"Your older brother knew my wishes about him and the army, and he went and joined anyways." The newspaper was folded and placed on the table as his father glared over at him, "I did all I could to prevent him from doing that, but he's just like your mother. Once she's made up her mind, she follows through no matter what anyone says. You and I are different, Connor. We think things through and don't rush headlong into anything. You need to be smart in times of war, or you don't survive."

Silence.

"Is it really that bad, Dad?"

Silence.

"Yes, son. The training is rigorous and specifically designed to break people. And when you're done with that, you're placed in a platoon with plenty of other guys and you learn to work together as one unit. You form friendships and bonds, and before you know it, you're thrust into battle. People are dying left and right and you're so scared you can't think straight. The worst is when one of your friends dies. It eats away at you, the grief. But what's worse than that is the shame. You're ashamed because as much as you miss your friend, you're thankful that they died and that you didn't. And that relief is worse than any pain you could feel from losing a friend."

Connor stared over at his father, and the far-away gaze deep in his eyes. He didn't say anything and instead tried to imagine his father crouched down, surrounded by dead bodies and crying. He couldn't do it. His father was too strong and tough to cry. He gazed back at his father, just in time to see him wipe away a single tear that had miraculously formed beneath his eye.

Connor knew it then. He'd never go to war. Not ever.

* * *

"You hear that too?"

"Of course I do." Leslie (Girl #25) snapped back. They sat next to one another in the pitch black corner of a basement in an empty house. The words Connor had spoken were the first they had said to one another since they had taken shelter in the basement. Truthfully, the silence had been almost too much for Connor to handle. He had wanted something to break the silence, but he certainly hadn't wanted it to be gunshots.

"What should we do?"

"What kind of question is that? We do nothing, we're not being attacked."

"…"

"You have a problem with that?"

"I-"

"Good."

Silence resumed. They sat together, Connor's mind racing a mile a minute, images of blood and gore and carnage flashing in his mind's eye. The gun shots echoed throughout the empty basement, ringing in his ears. He tried to think about anything else rather than what was going on nearby, but when he closed his eyes he saw himself huddled in a little ball, surrounded by dead bodies and sobbing his eyes out.

He took a deep breath and stood up. Leslie sensed the disturbance and she whispered, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to help."

"Help? Do you even know who's out there?"

"No, I don't."

"Then why the hell are you going?"

"I know you don't like people very much, but the more people we have with us, the better. We need numbers to beat this."

"Beat what? The Program? How do you plan to escape?"

"Look, I can't really explain it. But this is war. We're all out here fighting for our lives, and we all need people to rely on. I'm not saying that you're worthless or anything like that. But I…I can't just sit here anymore. They need our help and we need theirs. And if we do nothing, soon we're…we're going to feel the shame of war. The survivor's guilt. I've seen what it's done to my dad, and I don't want to lose myself to it either. If I don't do everything I can to help, I won't be able to live with myself."

"No kidding, you'll be dead. And besides, you're going to broadcast our hiding place. Now don't be stupid and sit down."

"No."

The force of the single word nearly knocked Leslie back further into the wall. Her mouth dropped in the darkness as she heard him feel around for the exit that led outside. She sat in the dark corner by herself, telling herself that Connor could make his own decisions, that he was not her responsibility. And yet despite all that something inside her was tugging at her to make him stay. Silently cursing herself, she spoke again.

"Hold on a second."

"I told you already. I-"

"I heard you." Leslie snapped as she stood from the ground, "In fact, listening to you fumble around this dark basement has convinced me that the second you leave this basement, you're probably going to get shot in the face. If you're so intent on helping the people out there who need it, then let me do it. I can protect myself a lot better than you can."

"What?" Connor was almost sure he had heard incorrectly. He heard her find the door in a portion of the basement Connor was sure he had already checked.

"You stay here; I don't want you getting hurt. Close this door right after I leave. I'll come in through the first floor like we did earlier."

And she was gone. The moonlight flooded the dark basement for a moment and then was gone as Leslie shut the door behind her. Connor stood dumbstruck in the middle of the floor.

_She…she doesn't want me getting hurt?_

While the last few minutes had confused and shocked him, he was still stuck that basement. He knew Leslie had told him to stay put, and that she'd be angry with him for leaving, but he needed to go out there and help. Knowing that she was out there now motivated him further in his cause. But he'd give her a few minute head start. If she saw him leave the basement right after she told him not to, Connor was pretty sure she'd kill him.

Outside, Leslie scanned her surroundings and immediately rushed toward the noise. She turned the corner and was surprised to see four boys actively engaged in combat. Sid swung his dagger with pure force at Nathan, who was succeeding at avoiding the attacks, but unsuccessful at making any of his own. And the few that did hit did very little to damage the mighty gladiator. Meanwhile, Minh had his hands full with the quick Paul, who was lashing out rapidly and deadly. The small Asian was nimble though, and able to dodge most of the attacks. The rest he block with the brunt of his shotgun. However, he wasn't given the time to remove the empty case inside it and get a clear shot off with Paul's rapid succession of blows. Unsure of who to help and what exactly was going on, Leslie remained off to the side and out of view, for the time being.

The stalemate was suddenly broken as Minh knocked Paul back with the butt of the shotgun. He removed the casing with a fluid motion and brought the barrel up to Paul's face. There would be no escape from this shot. Minh pulled the trigger with resolve and the resulting _Click_ echoed through the entire area.

"Fuck!" Minh cried out and spied his duffel bag on the ground a ways off. He rushed over to it and frantically unzipped it, searching for more ammunition. "Nathan, can you hold them both off for a minute?"

"Are you joking?" Nathan cried out and noticed Paul rushing toward his boyfriend. He darted away and plowed into the charging boy. His attention was drawn back to the lumbering Sid who was making his way toward Minh as well. He gripped the arm of Paul and swung him toward the giant. They collided and both toppled over, giving Minh a little more time. Nathan rushed to engage them once again and hopefully give the small Asian more time. But none of the boys saw the female hiding in the shadows, her eyes solely focused on the shotgun. Gloria knew it was the perfect time to strike, and she did so.

Leslie saw her suddenly emerge from the forest, the moonlight shining on the massive blade she held in her hand. She didn't have any more time to observe. Leslie sprung into action, racing toward the unseen murderess. She launched up in the air and with a yell that startled absolutely everyone in the area, she planted a flying kick to Gloria's head. The girl tumbled off to the side with a cry as Leslie eyed the four other boys in the area.

"Thanks for the help." Minh said breathlessly as he loaded the last shell into the shotgun and snapped it shut. He raced forward, aiming the shotgun at Sid and firing off a shot. The shot missed completely, but both Sid and Paul had their attention returned to Minh. A screech echoed in Leslie's ears and she spun to see Gloria rushing at her. She swiped her machete horizontally, but Leslie jumped back away from the swipe. However, she couldn't avoid Gloria's kick, and was knocked to the ground. Gloria stared down at her and then raced off to the side, her focus on Minh.

"Look out!" Leslie cried out from the ground, but Gloria was upon Minh before he was even aware. She slashed down with the massive blade, but luckily Minh raised his shotgun and blocked the sharp edge before it reached his skull. He kicked her away and raised the gun to blow a hole through her. Sid charged in at this point, grabbing hold of the large gun and attempting to pry it from the weaker boy's hands. Gloria was on her feet again and swiped at both boys, causing them to jump back and the shotgun clattered to the ground. Gloria reached down and nearly grabbed hold of the gun. Leslie raced in from the side, planting a hand punch to Gloria's face and sending the girl to the ground. She then reached down for the shotgun, but Sid, who was still nearby, kicked it away from her reach before shoving the dented shield in her face. The shotgun rolled on the ground away from the mass of people and settled at the feet of a boy who had decided to watch and wait for his chance to rejoin the fight. A wide Cheshire cat grin spread over his face as he bent over and picked up the weapon.

Paul stared at the five people who all stood in front of him, all their eyes focused on the gun he held. His smile grew wider, if that was even possible, and he lifted the shotgun up to eye level.

_Who should I shoot first?_

* * *

Connor was sure he had given Leslie enough time. The fact that the shooting had stopped was either a very good sign, or a very bad sign. Connor decided that he'd find out soon enough. He emerged from beneath the ground, scanning the area around him. A yell from nearby caught his attention and he slowly crept in the direction. He saw them all almost immediately. Five of them stared at the one who held a shotgun, and he aimed at them all, slowly moving the shotgun back and forth as he changed targets. And then he saw her attack.

Leslie rushed forward when the shotgun was aimed off to the right. Paul reacted quickly, clocking off a shot at her, but luckily missed her. He reloaded the weapon just as Leslie reached him, landing a hard punch to his gut. Paul recoiled and fluidly swung the shotgun down and connected with the top of Leslie head. She fell to the ground and Paul aimed down at her, ready to blow the back of her head open.

"LESLIE!" Connor screamed and he ran forward toward them. Paul jumped from the new intruder and he spun the shotgun, aiming directly for Connor's charging body. The shotgun went off. The majority of the spray missed Connor, but a few pellets ripped into his thigh and blood exploded from the holes in his flesh.

"NO!" Leslie cried out at seeing him cry out and fall. And deep inside Leslie, the beast that lay dormant finally awoke, roaring like mad and reaching out with its bloody claws. Leslie screamed inhumanly as Paul cocked the shotgun and aimed down at her once again. She launched her leg up, kicking the shotgun high in the air. From lying onher stomach she curled her legs in and rolled forward, ending up in a crouching position. She lashed out with her hands, her fingers digging into Paul's throat. He tried to cry out and Leslie yanked two pieces of flesh from his throat. She screeched, lashing out again quickly and sticking each of her index fingers into Paul's eyes. She glanced up and caught the shotgun in her open palms, taking a second to bring it to the right level and fired point blanc.

Paul's chest was blown back, pieces of his ribs and lungs littering the ground behind him. He toppled backwards, and began giggling like mad as best he could, his grin widening on his bleeding face. And he then he stopped, his Cheshire cat grin forever immortalized on his face.

_Life is worth working for. Life is worth fighting for. Life is worth dying for._

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 48, 50, 56, 61, 64

Pending danger zones: 32

(21) Contestants remaining


	35. Keep Running

A cold chill drifted through the warm night. It raced over corpses and through trees. It blew open a few windows that had been left ajar and slowly made its way to an opening among the houses where a number of contestants stood frozen in time. Gloria (Girl #22) gripped her machete and stared over at the corpse a few feet away. Near her stood the giant Sid (Boy #14) who clutched his bullet-ridden shield and his dagger rather loosely. His eyes also settled on the dead boy on the ground. Minh's (Boy #6) Asian eyes were wide and his mouth was open in shock. Nathan was next to the small boy, but he had dropped to one of his knees in surprise. He grabbed hold of Minh's arm and pulled himself back to his feet, watching the female holding the gun. She clutched the shotgun with only one hand and her other arm hung loosely by her side. Droplets of dark red blood slowly dripped from her fingers, staining the ground. The only sound that could be heard was the movement of Connor (Boy #4) as he struggled painfully to stand, his eyes fixated on her. Her long hair hung loosely around her head, concealing her face as she loomed over Paul (Boy #21) and the giant hole she had just placed into his chest. But the cold wind blew the hair away from her face, and everyone around Leslie (Girl #25) could see the sneer that remained there.

Gloria was the first to break free of the frozen time and she charged forward only two steps, her eyes focused solely on the shotgun. Leslie reacted instinctively, reloading the shotgun and aiming over at the rampaging girl. Gloria gasped and fell to the ground as the spray rushed just above her head. She heard the shotgun clack back into place yet again and jumped back as the ground exploded where her head had been from the many pellets impacting the earth. That was all Gloria needed to understand; she could notwin this battle. She was on her feet and sprinting off into the darkness before anyone even knew she had left.

Sid was the next one to take off. He took a step backwards, making sure to ready his shield in case a shogun shell was hurled his way. He took another step, making note of Leslie watching him intently. The moment she lowered the shotgun, Sid sprinted as fast as his large legs could carry him, vanishing behind a cluster of houses. However, Minh and Nathan remained motionless, unsure of what to do next. They winced as Leslie focused on the both of them, her sneer both chilling and intimidating.

"Leslie!" Connor called out from the side. She swung her body around and quickly took aim with the shotgun, spotting his vital points as he struggled to come closer to her. Her finger rested on the trigger and the beast roared within her as she prepared to blast Connor's head far from his body. He cringed on the ground and cried out, "Stop!"

She hissed with pure rage and began to squeeze her finger. Suddenly, the smell of blood entered her nostrils, and she swayed slightly. Leslie's finger edged away from the trigger as she stared down at Paul's grinning corpse almost as if she was seeing it for the first time. The stench slowly overpowered her as images began to flash inside her mind. No, not images, memories.

Her head spun as a new odor drifted through her body with the blood. The smell of alcohol. There was no alcohol here in the forest, why would she be smelling that? She gazed down at her hands and watched the blood drip from her fingers. She cringed, but could not peel her eyes away. She nearly cried out as she chucked the shotgun away from her and tried desperately to wipe the blood from her hands. Tears streamed down her face as her ears picked up the faint cry of sirens, slowly growing louder and louder. She glanced down at the body, the body that was no longer Paul, but instead an older man's body. He lied in several pools of blood and even in his drunken stupor, the pain was too much for him to register. Leslie heard voices as she spun around and saw several police officers enter the room. She watched them shake in shock and one vomited on her floor. And suddenly, the beast had gone back to sleep, her memories had gone, and Leslie was returned to reality.

She screamed only once in the utter horror surrounding her mind and body and collapsed to the ground, convulsing. On the ground a few feet away from her, Connor called her name out again, but now with more worry than before. His leg still gushed blood from the minor wounds from the shotgun blast, so instead of trying to stand he dragged his body over the ground until he finally reached Leslie. He reached out and grabbed hold of her, pulling her body to him and cradling the shaking figure. Connor hugged her tight, in an effort to get her to stop shivering and her tears slowly soaked the front of his shirt.

From the distance, Minh quickly ventured away from Nathan. Nathan silently reached out for him, scared what might happen if Leslie suddenly regained her composure. He whispered for Minh to return, but the Asian turned his head slightly and then continued forward. A few more steps and Nathan finally understood where his boyfriend was heading. Minh carefully bent down, uncomfortably close to the boy and girl on the ground, and grabbed hold of the shotgun, racing back to Nathan. The two boys left Connor and Leslie and sprinted off into the concealing darkness.

Connor stared up at the moon brightly hanging overhead, and clutched Leslie close to him. The two pellet wounds to his legs weren't healing very quickly, but he couldn't feel the pain from them anymore. All the mattered was Leslie, the tough girl who had broken down without warning. The girl who had ripped the flesh off another contestant. She continued to shiver and sob in his arms and Connor could only wonder one thing.

_What happened to you Leslie?_

* * *

Sid breathed heavily as he finally stopped running. He leaned his large frame against the side of an empty house and hugged his dented shield to his chest. The battle that had just occurred played over and over inside his head. He was lucky to be alive, and Sid recognized that fact with all his brain. That tiny Asian had put up a good fight and nearly blasted a hole through Sid's stomach, had his shield not been there. And then Paul had claimed the powerful weapon, and Sid knew he was in trouble then. He could see it in the boy's eyes that he was prepared to take down every other contestant there. But nothing could compare to that girl who had killed Paul. She was clearly the major contender in the battle, and she had the skills to back up that claim. Sid was lucky he left before she had claimed his life as well.

Sid was now down an ally, but he saw no problem with that. There was just one less dangerous person in the battlefield. He had no loyalty to Paul, and the reverse was true as well. That situation had been extremely risky, and Sid was glad that he didn't have to worry about it anymore. He could now focus on getting his revenge, and then winning The Program. Paul was now dead, but there plenty of other dangerous contestants still alive. And he was about to meet two of the most deadly.

Jeff (Boy #22) turned the corner of one of the houses and stared at the large boy who now stood in his view. He had heard plenty of commotion coming from somewhere nearby, but finding someone alone was better than attacking a group. Sid jerked his head to the side and spied the killer staring at him. He exhaled deeply, trying to ready his tired body for yet another battle. Jeff stared at the shield and dagger the gladiator held, along with the size of his new prey. He knelt down quickly and reached into his sock, producing the switchblade which he fluidly flipped open. He stood at the ready, the scythe in one hand and the blade in the other, while Sid extended his bullet-ridden shield and gripped his dagger with resolve.

_Big and slow. I'm going to need speed to bring him down._

In an instant Jeff was rushing toward him, then stopping and leaping into the air. Sid extended his dagger toward the airborne figure, but Jeff spun in the air, knocking away the dagger and spinning further to slice the scythe down at Sid. The warrior quickly brought up his shield and shoved it into Jeff, tossing his body like a rag doll. Jeff landed hard on the ground and rolled, springing quickly back to his feet. His eyes bulged as the dagger was quickly lunged between his eyes.

_He's fast!_

Jeff ducked and stabbed upwards with his switchblade, effectively slicing deep into Sid's forearm. The large boy cried out in pain and stumbled back, shoving his shield forward for protection. Jeff easily dodged around the hunk of metal and Sid's eyes widened when he saw that he had exposed the side of his body. The warrior tried to swing the shield around in enough time, but it was too late to stop Jeff from driving his scythe deep into Sid's side. Sid roared and shoved the shield at Jeff, knocking the boy away from him.

The giant felt the blood run freely from the wound and he sneered over at his enemy. He pulled the shield close to his body and held out his dagger, pointed straight at Jeff's throat. With a war cry, the gladiator rushed forward. Jeff quickly racked his brain on how to counter, but the only way to save himself from a stampede was to escape it. Jeff raced away from the charging Sid, making his way to the side of a nearby house. He could feel Sid's breath right behind him as he reached the wall and placed a foot up against it. Using his speed, Jeff lifted up, and pushed off the wall, jumping up and over Sid. The warrior gasped in shock and realized that he had exposed his back to the attacker. Jeff sailed down, directly behind Sid, extending the scythe and cutting deep into the giant's back as he landed. He immediately jumped back, expecting the counterattack from Sid - the shield being thrown into his face. Jeff put some distance between him and his opponent, letting the pain from his wounds take its full effect.

Jeff smirked with satisfaction, but knew that the battle wasn't over yet. Sid was a big kid, and that meant it was going to take more force than normal to kill him. But Jeff had also been lucky, from the look of it, Sid had been tired when he had attacked. It would take more time, but this battle was over.

Sid rushed him again, and Jeff stood his ground, ready to pounce. An explosion ripped through the open air. The ground rose slightly between Jeff and Sid and both boys glanced to their side at the new figure standing in their midst. She smiled only slightly, holding the semi-automatic directly out in front of her. Without warning, Ariana (Girl #18) fired again, this bullet sailing wide of both boys. Sid immediately spun his shield to protect himself from her gunfire, and Jeff saw his chance to wound the boy. He raced toward the large boy and before Sid could even react, Jeff was standing behind him, using the large boy's body as his own personal shield. Sid didn't dare turn to face Jeff and risk getting shot, so he weakly stabbed behind him with his dagger. Jeff easily dodged and squatted, swiping quickly with his switchblade and cutting the tendon at both of Sid's ankles. The large boy screamed in pain, and his legs gave out.

"Even Achilles had a weakness." Jeff hissed as he reached forward and grabbed hold of the shield. Sid's hands easily let go of the metal barrier and reached back to his feet, tears blurring his vision. Meanwhile, Jeff rushed toward Ariana, who fired directly at the shield he carried. When he was finally in close range, Jeff threw the heavy hunk of metal at the deadly temptress. She cried out as it knocked her back. Swiftly, Jeff placed the switchblade into his pocket and pulled out the eye mace. She aimed the gun at his head, but he quickly landed a punch to her gut that stunned Ariana for enough time. He fired the eye mace directly into her eyes and the girl shrieked in pain. She blindly fired the gun twice as she toppled to her knees. She pulled the trigger more, the bullets zooming all around her, but missing Jeff every time. From the ground, Sid still clutched his bleeding ankles only to feel a large force hit him in the arm. The randomly fired bullet entered his bicep and stopped amid his large muscle mass. Now in even more pain, Sid cried out again.

Ariana continued to pull the trigger until all that could be heard were clicks from the empty gun. In the meantime, Jeff carefully made his way to Ariana's duffel bag, spotting the bullets and quickly placing them into his own bag. He glanced over at Ariana who was blindly staring in his direction, no doubt after hearing the sound of her duffel bag. Silently, he drifted to her side and stared down at her. She had no idea how close he was to her. Instantly he reached out and grabbed hold of the gun.

"Guns are useless to the blind." He hissed with a smile. He almost didn't notice Ariana reach behind her beneath her skirt. With a cry, she lashed out with the ice pick she had concealed inside her panties. The ice pick was a little off mark, but Jeff was not expecting an attack and the point grazed the side of his stomach. He cried out in pain and raised a foot, connecting with Ariana's chin. She tumbled to the ground with a cry and Jeff reached into his bag, pulling out and few bullets and quickly loading them into the gun. Ariana struggled on the ground trying her best to stand. Jeff kicked her again in the side and then quickly walked over to her, placing the barrel of the gun against her forehead. Instantly she stopped moving, trying to stare up at the boy before her, but her eyes continued to sting.

"Please," she pleaded, hey eyes welling with tears, "Don't kill me."

Jeff forced the barrel of the gun harder against her head as his answer.

"Please, I can…I can help you. Together, we can beat The Program! Please don't kill me!"

The tears streamed down her face, both from the eye mace and the act she was putting on. She couldn't see if it was working, but the boy hadn't pulled the trigger yet, and that was a good sign.

"Crying." He said, and Ariana froze as she strained to listen to what he said next. "You cry and yet you still haven't felt nearly enough pain."

"What?" she gasped.

"You don't know what real pain is!" Jeff roared, "You have no right to cry!"

A gun shot ripped through the silence of the residential area.

* * *

Carlos (Boy #3) gazed around him into the darkness. He considered flipping on the flashlight, but he knew that would only draw attention to him. He'd only use the flashlight for identifying people around him, or to blind potential attackers. It was a useful object to have, and it worked very well with his other weapons – the contestant files and the revolver. Thanks to his contestant files, Carlos could easily recognize the dangerous people. With the flashlight, he could find them easily, even in the dark. And with his revolver, he could easily eliminate them.

The sounds of gunshots made him uneasy, though. He knew that hardcore players would follow the sounds in the hope of claiming some victims. And even though Carlos felt the urge to do just that, he found himself moving as far away from the sounds as he could. He felt the same as he had in the very beginning of the game – looking to avoid all the other contestants at all costs. And yet, the major difference between the two moments in time was that Carlos now had some means to protect himself. Sometimes the revolver felt very light in his hand, and sometimes he felt like it weighed him down. But nevertheless, it fired bullets, and that made things easier for him.

From the sounds of things, there was plenty of action coming from the east side of the playing field, most likely from the suburban area. But there was another residential area on the west side of the playing field. There were plenty of danger zones nearby, but it appeared that no one was in that general area. And with empty houses, there were still plenty of places to hide.

_If I can avoid everyone else, then eventually I'll be the only one left. I've just got to keep running._

And he did just that. Carlos continued running.

* * *

"Do you think she's dead?" April (Girl #13) asked. She gazed over at Naomi's (Girl #11) silhouette in the darkness, but couldn't see if her friend reacted to the question. Together both girls stood in a small alleyway in one of the few areas that were not danger zones in the urban area. April wondered if Naomi was too lost in thought to realize that April had spoken to her. She was about to ask again, when her friend finally responded.

"No." she said, "Kim's (Girl #15) too stubborn to die so soon."

April smirked and nodded in agreement. She gazed off at one end of the alley, looking for any sign of company, but quickly getting lost in thought. Even if Kim was still alive out there somewhere, chances were that she'd never make it back to April and Naomi alive. As far as April was concerned, it was just her and Naomi left. The rest of her friends were either dead, or as good as dead.

"Are we going to just keep running?" April broke the silence.

"Looks that way."

Silence.

"What's wrong, Naomi?"

Silence.

"You've been so quiet since Kim left us. I know that anyone looks quiet compared to me, but this isn't like you. What's going on inside that head of yours?" April stopped. Even in the darkness, she could see the reflection of the tears that were quickly forming in Naomi's eyes. April's mouth opened in surprise, confirming that she had rarely ever seen Naomi cry. She'd barely shed any tears when she learned that Cassie (Girl #4) was dead. And here she was, the tears flowing like waterfalls.

"Naomi?"

"It's my fault." She whispered.

"What?"

"Genevive (Girl #21) was working on the collars. She was so close, and she needed my designated weapon. She may have been the only one who could have saved us, and I abandoned her in the early hours. I was so caught up in only finding my friends, I ignored her and it may have cost us all our lives! If I had joined with her, we may all have escaped by now!"

"Naomi, you couldn't have known-"

"And you were right! I left her alone because I was scared of what she'd do. And I wanted to find you and Kim and Cassie and Taryn (Girl #3). But a part of me was still angry she beat me in that stupid election! That goddamn election! I've killed us all! I'm sorry, April. I'm so sorry."

April approached her friend and wrapped her in hug as Naomi broke down completely, sobbing into April's shoulder. She tried to cry softly to not attract any attention, but she was failing miserably at it. April sighed and kept Naomi close to her. So much was running through her mind – all the possibilities of what could have happened if things were done differently, her friends who were now dead, and Kim who was still alive.

"It's all right, Naomi." April whispered to her, "We've just got to keep running."

* * *

Jeff glanced over at a portion of a nearby house that now had a large hole in its wall. Before him, Ariana cried out in a panic and dropped to the ground, clearly thinking that the gunshot had come from directly in front of her. Instantly, Jeff glanced over to his side and saw two boys staring back at him. The smaller one held up a large shotgun and took aim. Jeff raced to the side, quickly firing the gun in his hand. The bullets splashed all around the two boys, but none hit their mark. Jeff cursed as the gun quickly ran out of bullets and he clutched his duffel bag before racing off into oblivion.

Minh fired off another shell, but this one sailed wide just like the last one had. He glanced back to Nathan and quickly asked, "You weren't hit, right?"

Nathan shook his head and then both boys ventured forward to the girl before them. Ariana's eyes continued tearing on the ground, but she didn't need her sight to know that she was still alive. That meant that the gunshot she'd heard came form somewhere else. And that meant that there was someone else nearby. Her hand tightened on the ice pick and soon her ears picked up the sounds of footsteps.

"Who's there?" she cried out, trying to stand.

"Freeze!" Minh cried out reloading his shotgun and taking careful aim. He was close to her and would not miss if she tried anything suspicious.

_A boy…_

Immediately, Ariana dropped the ice pick and fell to her knees. She forced herself to cry and the tears helped to wash away the remaining eye mace. "Please, don't kill me! I don't want to die!"

The two boys stared down at the girl before them. She had many blood stains all over her body and then there were the handcuffs that hung from her wrists. Neither of them knew what to make of her - she'd certainly been through plenty. But that didn't identify whether or not she was a threat.

"I'm so scared! Please don't hurt me!"

"We won't hurt you." Nathan spoke up. Ariana recognized that it was a new voice who spoke and realized that there was more than one person with the boy who carried the shotgun. She gazed up through stinging eyes and finally made out two figures. She forced a smile.

"You won't?"

Minh sighed and slowly lowered the shotgun. He had seen Ariana around school sometimes, and this girl in front of him certainly didn't seem to fit the persona she had made for herself. He supposed that The Program changed people, but something didn't feel right.

"You are both nice boys. Not like the other ones who did this to me." Ariana motioned to her blood stained clothing and the wound to her left arm, "They captured me and wanted to rape me. But they ended up killing each other. I was lucky they didn't kill me too."

Neither boy knew how to respond to that, so instead, Nathan walked over and helped Ariana to her feet.

"You're lucky we heard those gunshots too." Nathan told her, "A few more minutes and we would have shown up to late."

Nathan gazed over at Minh who refused to make eye contact. The two had heard gunshots in plenty of advance. The only reason they showed up so late was the fact that Minh didn't want to get involved. He wanted to find a new hiding spot and avoid all the other contestants, while Nathan wanted to increase the ranks. The two of them with only a shotgun were not nearly as safe as they were with three or more people they could trust. Nathan had won out in the end, obviously, and they now had a pretty girl to join them, if she wanted to.

"You're welcome to join us." Nathan smiled warmly as Minh gazed away coldly.

"Really?" Ariana gasped and feigned excitement.

_This is almost too easy. First they invite me to join them. Hell, if they suggest sex and then hand me the weapons, I won't have to do a damn thing. Yes, a satisfying threesome is the only thing in the way of me blowing their heads clear off their shoulders with that shotgun._

The three people gazed over at the moaning giant not far form them. With cut tendons and a bullet in one arm, Sid was all but helpless. He weakly lifted his head and stared back at the three contestants staring at him.

"That bitch attacked me!" he yelled out and then cried out in pain, "She'll kill you both too!"

Minh hissed with hate and reloaded his shotgun as he took a few steps towards the warrior.

"Minh!" Nathan called him, "Leave him."

"Why should I?" Minh yelled back as he seethed with hate, "He was with that other bastard! He deserves to die!"

Ariana put on a shocked face and took a step back, slightly whimpering. Minh took notice, but refused to back down. Sid had nearly claimed his life numerous times. And now he was defenseless. Minh needed to take him down now before he could do any more damage.

"He's no threat to us now." Nathan stated matter-of-factly, "Just leave him alone."

He turned around and began to walk away from the group. Minh turned his back too, and stood directly in front of Sid, the barrel of the shotgun aimed directly at his forehead. Sid glanced to the side and saw that his dagger and shield lay too far away for him to reach them in time, with or without his injuries. But instead of firing, Minh swung his shotgun, slamming hard into Sid's face. He sneered at the boy and then walked off, picking up the dagger as he went.

"You can keep your shield." Minh replied coldly.

"I'll see you in hell." Sid spat from the ground, "And she's going to put you there!"

"We already are in hell." Minh murmured as he passed Ariana.

_Yes, I agree with you. But I wonder which level you'd say we're in?_

She glanced back at giant lying nearly defeated on the ground. He struggled to sit up, but then collapsed back down on the ground in a slump. Ariana knew that he wouldn't last too much longer on his own. Someone would be along shortly to finish him off. A wicked smile crossed her face and then it disappear she caught up with her two new "allies." She wondered how long she'd need to wait before she could entice them into some sexual acts. He eyes settled between them, and for a minute she was confused. Both boys looked around them for potential threats or allies, and yet their hands were conjoined.

_Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me._

"You two are…"

They gazed back at her and then simultaneously they stared down at their clasped hands. They both blushed slightly, but their hands remained together and held strong.

"What can I say?" Nathan smirked, "I fell for his boyish good looks."

Minh rolled his almond eyes but was clearly a little embarrassed and flattered at the same time.

"That's so great that you two found each other!" Even Ariana had to admit that she sounded fake. But the boys nodded and they continued along, Ariana trotting slightly behind them.

_Damn you statistics. My kingdom for a straight man._

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 48, 50, 56, 61, 64

Pending danger zones: 32

(21) Contestants remaining


	36. Good and Evil

Connor (Boy #4) heard the gunshots ring out nearby. He certainly was not any sort of professional when it came to guns, but his ears worked fine. And his ears only picked up only two different sounds of gunshots. One kind he had heard very recently – it was the shotgun Leslie (Girl #25) had used. The other was different – it able to fire rapidly, but not so quickly that it was a machine gun. Connor supposed it was some kind of hand gun, but that was merely guesswork.

The only experiences Connor had had with guns were when his father had taken him to the shooting range. Connor had begged his father to take him those times. The first time it was merely to see how guns actually worked – if they really looked and acted the same like they did in the TV shows, but after that it was just to spend time with his dad, and maybe hear some more war stories. But Connor's father rarely talked once the gun was in his hand, almost as if he entered some other state of mind. He said that it was important to keep his abilities sharp, and as far as Connor could tell, that was the only reason his dad continued to keep up his sharp shooting. In fact, from the look of anxiety that always crossed his face before he even touched the metal, Connor was sure that his father hated firing guns. And yet he continued to do it, just in case he ever needed to pick one up again.

Connor had asked to fire a gun once, and surprisingly enough, his father had agreed to let Connor fire only one bullet. Even merely gripping the gun, Connor could feel the power it possessed. His hands sweat slightly, out of fear of it going off by itself, or if something unexpected happened. But the hunk of metal lied dormant in his hands and Connor took a long breath. He aimed in front of him at the target with the outline of a figure and cupped his free hand beneath the gun for added support. He took his time, allowing the moment to sink in since Connor was sure he'd never fire a gun again in his life. He pulled the trigger, and was surprised to discover that it moved quite easily. The explosion ripped through his hands and into his arms. Connor's mouth dropped as the power surged through his body, even after he had placed the gun down. He glanced over at his dad, and then back at the target, which had a newly placed hole in the center of the head region.

Connor returned to reality and glanced down at Leslie, who had seemed to calm down considerably. She was still shaking, but Connor hadn't heard a peep from her in a few minutes. He had been worried about trying to move her while she was still unstable, but she appeared to be doing better. And since the gunshots had stopped, it was probably a good idea to find some cover before they were found.

"Are you ready to move?" Connor whispered to Leslie. She replied by simply nodding and pried herself away from her ally. A rush of cold swept over him as her body heat was removed from his presence. He shivered slightly and wished that she'd return to his embrace. She stood and glanced down at Connor, eyeing his leg wound.

"Can you move your leg?" Leslie asked in a hoarse and shaky voice.

"Yeah, it just hurts." Connor replied and tried to stand. Leslie gripped his arm and helped him to his feet. He winced from the pressure on his leg but shook it off.

"I'm…sorry." Leslie murmured, breaking away from Connor's gaze and turning her back on him, "I'm not usually that weak."

"Weak? Leslie, I don't-"

"I wouldn't blame you if you decided to leave. There's no guarantee that I'll be strong enough to control my emotions, and I could have another relapse into weakness."

"Leslie, having emotions doesn't make you weak."

She refused to look at him, and she refused to answer as well, which told Connor that she disagreed. She was right on one point, though. A part of him wanted to leave Leslie. He remembered earlier when she had aimed the shotgun straight at his head, when she had nearly killed him. He saw the beast that was hidden inside her – the destructive and blind rage that targeted everyone in the area. There was a chance that it'd show its face again, that she might kill him.

An image flashed into Connor's mind. He and Leslie sat on the beach together, the sun radiating from her body.

_I will not kill._

She had looked so…human then. The wind blowing through her hair, and the light cascading off her figure. And her eyes. Her eyes looking so…sad. Connor saw it now – anger, sadness, happiness, fear – Leslie hid it all away. She kept everything locked inside of herself, and refused to acknowledge its existence. She was a loose cannon – at any moment, one of her emotions could get the better of her, and then her actions would be unpredictable. It was not smart to stay by her side.

_And yet, I want to._

Connor couldn't deny it. Maybe it was the sense of security she emanated, or maybe it was her confidence. Whatever the reason, Connor knew it would be impossible to leave her. He had no explanation for this fact, since there was neither a basis for any loyalty between the two nor a sense of responsibility. But there was something there. And that thing kept Connor by Leslie's side.

"I'm not going anywhere."

She spun around in slight shock. And once again, her eyes held the same sadness Connor had witnessed earlier. He stared at her, getting lost in her presence, taking in her very essence. Slowly, her eyes changed. They seemed to sparkle like the stars above them, and Connor smiled at her. Just as quickly as they had come, her eyes darkened into the apathetic glance Connor was used to.

"What are you smiling at?" Leslie demanded.

"Nothing." Connor replied glancing away from her. He watched as Leslie approached the corpse on the ground, and grabbed hold of the hunting knife, placing it in her pocket, blade down. She grabbed the hammer as well, and then rummaged about in his duffel bag, pulling out a water bottle and a long rope. Connor began limping back to the basement of the house they had come from, and was surprised as Leslie suddenly appeared at his side, grabbing hold of his arm and wrapping it around her neck. He was confused at first, but Leslie didn't say anything as she helped him along, giving him extra support so as not to hurt his wounded leg. She silently handed him the hammer, and Connor grabbed it with his free arm, shoving it into his side pocket.

They walked on in silence.

* * *

The fear was becoming too much for Amy (Girl #13) to handle. Already so many had died, and she knew that many more would die before this thing was over. Obviously, the only thing that would determine who won was the order in which people died. If a major player is taken out early in The Program, then all their would-be victims will affect the outcome of many other battles. It was all about the order people died. Amy wondered which number death she would be.

She could face the truth, no matter how horrific or depressing it may be. She just did not have what it takes to win, and that was a tough truth to accept. It's not as if she was about to give up living, but Amy was no fool. In order to win, you had to kill, and that was not something she felt she had within her to do.

Despite the clarity of some of her thoughts, the anxiety was taking its toll on her mind as well. Every rush of wind frightened her. Every moving shadow terrified her. She knew that there were plenty of people out there that were gunning for her, simply because she was a contestant in The Program. Well, she hadn't chosen to be a contestant, and she didn't want to be one anymore. But that damned collar hanging from her neck took away her choice. She remembered back to one of the previous announcements, when it was said that someone had tried to remove the collars. Amy was upset that that person had failed. Many times before that announcement, she had considered taking her designated weapon and trying to smash the collar until it fell off her neck. But the bomb located in the collar prevented her from trying such a risky move.

Amy was sure she'd feel a lot better if she had someone she could trust with her. The solitude only enhanced her fleeting thoughts of death. But if there was someone else with her, then facing the terrors of this game would be that much easier. Amy had come into this game with two friends, one of which was already dead. Bonnie (Girl #20) was aday dreamer, with an imagination that rivaled the creative genius of Da Vinci. The two girls had met through their common friend Terri (Girl #6) and the three were soon spending days together at a time. Bonnie and Amy had clicked almost immediately, both girls finding themselves lost in thought a good amount of time. Amy thought about the world around her, while Bonnie's imagination ran away with her. Both girls liked having someone to share their thoughts with, and they'd do so whenever they were together. But Bonnie was dead now.

Terri was still alive, though. If Amy could find her friend, she knew that she'd feel a great deal better. But at that moment, Amy would accept the company of nearly anyone so long as it meant that she wasn't alone anymore. She knew it was dangerous to allow someone to join her, but that was a risk that Amy would take. Nothing was worse than being alone.

But Amy was no fool. There were some people that she knew to run from as soon as she saw them. The first was Matt (Boy #20) who she had met earlier in the game. He'd plowed straight into her, mumbling something about Ariana (Girl #18) and getting shot. He'd frightened her, and she'd screamed before she even knew what had happened. He'd raced off again into the forest, however, talking to himself. Amy was sure he'd gone off the deep end, and that made him dangerous. She'd avoid him at all costs. Despite his ravings, she was pretty sure that he had some basis behind his delusions, and that made Ariana dangerous too. Amy hadn't really interacted with Ariana before, but everyone knew she was smart – bordering on genius, or so said the rumors. And bordering on whore too if the other rumors were true. But looking at Ariana, Amy couldn't be convinced that the girl would give up her body so easily. She always seemed to put her studies first and everything else second, so it would seem strange that a smart girl like that would have sex with just anyone.

And then there was him. Sometimes when Amy would hear a noise, she'd spin around and expect to see him standing there, the bloody scythe in his hand. She'd found him a few hours ago, finishing up his work. Amy had heard noises and nearly stumbled on them fighting. She had watched from the shadows as Lauren (Girl #16) threw herself on top of her boyfriend to save him from the scythe. And she had nearly cried out when she saw him shove the scythe straight through Lauren's neck. She had watched him leave and she had watched Larry (Boy #9) die. She had wanted to take the box cutter clutched in the dead boy's grasp, but found herself unable to go any closer to the pair of corpses. Instead she had run away, her head spinning. She needed to watch out for him. Jeff (Boy #22) was more than likely the most dangerous person in the entire game.

She emerged out of the forest, staring up at the numerous buildings that stood before her. She realized she had finally reached the urban part of the playing field, and pulled the map and the compass from her duffel bag. She determined she was in block 12 and sighed in the relief that she had not wandered into the many danger zones that laced the path to this area. There wouldn't be many people here thanks to the danger zones, or so Amy thought.

She walked forward entering the maze of large buildings. She kept her compass in one hand to safely guide her away from danger zones and in her other hand she held her other protection – the monkey wrench she was given at the very start of The Program. Amy paused in the middle of the street, glancing around her for a possible location to rest for a while. A sudden crash off to her side and a cry immediately caught her attention. She gazed toward the sound, too afraid to move or hide. She watched as Beth (Girl #1) stumbled into the open street. She picked herself up and swung the Uzi back over her shoulder, brushing some dust from her clothes. She lifted her head and froze as her eyes settled on Amy.

Neither girl spoke as they stared at each other, completely terrified at the presence of the other. But Beth had lost herself to the game already, firing at one and killing another with that powerful gun of hers. She was the first to use her weapon, gripping the gun with both hands and firing it wildly.

"Get away from me!" she shrieked. The bullets splashed all around Amy and she cried out, looking for something to hide behind. But there was nothing to shield her from the bullets. A few hit their mark, burying themselves into Amy's shoulder. She screeched in pain and realized that it was too late to hide and too late to run. She'd need Beth's gun to make up for her injury. She'd need to fight.

Amy gripped the monkey wrench and rushed forward as the bullets whizzed by her head. Beth's eyes widened as Amy rushed her. But as Amy got closer, she became a bigger target. The bullets ripped into her stomach, but the girl pressed on, completely engrossed in the battle. The clarity that had possessed her mind was gone. All she knew was that she needed to win – at any cost.

With a roar, she raised the monkey wrench and swung down hard, knocking the gun from the smaller girl's grasp. Beth tumbled to the ground, the fear plastered all over her face. Amy swung the wrench at Beth again, but missed as the girl crawled away from the threat. Amy leapt upon her with a shriek and swung down with the heavy wrench. Beth raised an arm for protection, but the blunt object connected with her frail appendage and it easily snapped her bones. The shiny white material stuck out of from her flesh as small drops of blood splattered her face. She screamed in agony and clutched her broken forearm to her chest. Amy swung at Beth again, but Beth was suddenly on her feet and sprinting away. Amy grabbed the Uzi lying near her and fired at the girl running away from her, but missed.

With a sigh, Amy collapsed to the ground, glancing down at herself and seeing the many puncture marks from the bullets that riddled her body.

_What did I do to myself?_

It was too late to do anything about it now, however. She was injured, badly injured, but that was merely something she'd have to work through. With the Uzi by her side, she had a very good chance of lasting until the endgame, despite any injuries she had. And it gave her a large amount of protection as well, which was worth the bullets in her stomach and shoulder.

Amy reached over for the Uzi and was shocked to see a flash of metal and suddenly her hand was no longer attached to her arm. The pain registered after a moment, and then she screamed as the blood gushed from the stump where her hand used to be. She gazed up at the figure that loomed over her.

"Nice gun." Gloria (Girl #22) smirked as she gripped her blood stained machete in her hand. Before Amy could even scream, Gloria raised the machete and swung it down, aiming for Amy's brain. Summoning strength, the injured girl swung the wrench and knocked the machete off its path. Another quick strike with the heavy object connected with Gloria's chin and sent her backwards.

Amy climbed to her feet, blood gushing from where her right hand used to be. She gripped the wrench in her left, feeling its heft and breathing heavily. Blood soaked her from the rapid fire bullets that had ripped through her body. She glanced down at the Uzi and considered dropping the wrench to pick up the powerful gun, but she was no longer given the choice as Gloria rushed her.

Amy swung out with the wrench, but Gloria was too fast, dodging the strike and swinging at Amy's face. The injured girl tried to move out of the way, but her wounds had made her slightly sluggish, and while the machete missed her face, it sliced deep into the base of her neck. More blood gushed from Amy's body and things went black for a moment. She swung out with the wrench and missed Gloria, but at least she was able to drive the murderous girl away from her.

She felt dizzy as she stared over at Gloria, who knew that she was on the verge of victory. She took a stumbling step forward, the pain dulling all of her senses and raised the wrench high above her head. Gloria reacted instantly, lashing out with her machete and decapitating Amy's other hand. Amy stared down at her new stump and then down at her hand on the ground. She gazed up, and before Amy could even scream, Gloria buried the machete deep into Amy's brain.

_I didn't see this coming._

She toppled backwards, lying sprawled out in the middle of the street. And while a part of Amy recognized the fact that she was dying, a good part of her was relieved. All the stress she had felt, all the anxiety that had plagued her, all the fear that had gripped her, was gone. She wondered what number death she was. And she wondered how her death would affect the remaining contestants. And then Amy wondered nothing more.

Gloria pulled the machete from the girl's head and swung it twice to shake off the loose grey matter. She bent down and examined the gun and saw that it was in good working order. The clip that was still in the gun appeared to still have three quarters of its bullets remaining. It was not a lot of bullets, but it would do for now. And maybe she'd be able to find the girl who had run off with the duffel bag full of ammunition. This Uzi was a good find, and Gloria planned to put it to good use. She was lucky that the two girls had made so much noise, or she might have never heard them from the forest. Her previous battle hadn't gone so well, and she was glad to finally pull out another win, never mind another victim.

Gloria gazed down at the monkey wrench still grasped in the lifeless hand on the ground. She wrinkled her face in disgust and turned away from it, not wanting to waste her energy dragging along a heavy object. She was very equipped now, more so than she had been at the very beginning of The Program, when her only weapon had been a slingshot. The odds were certainly tipped in her favor.

The deadly girl raced off in pursuit of new victims.

* * *

"So, you're ready to go?" Bruce (Boy #23) glanced over at the boy who sat beside him. Jeff (Boy #22) glanced back and replied solely by nodding.

"This is actually a pretty cool assignment when you think about it." Bruce murmured as Donna (Girl #7) finished her speech about the fashion of America through the ages, "I told you choosing Mrs. Smith for English was a good idea. All the other classes are reading _Macbeth_ or something like that. We're the only one allowed to give five minute speeches about a topic of our choice. What are you gonna talk about?"

The class began a slow applause as Donna gathered her index cards covered in notes and pulled down her poster board covered in diagrams, smiling widely. Everyone had predicted she would talk about fashion, since the only times many people had heard her talk was when she was commenting on someone's outfit.

"You'll see." Jeff replied as he stood. Personally, Bruce was rather excited to hear what Jeff had to say. They'd been friends for a few years now, but Bruce didn't know very much about his friend, since Jeff usually refrained from talking about himself. All he really knew was the Jeff had transferred to this high school in the middle of freshman year, but knew next to nothing about the other schools Jeff had gone to, any activities he had been involved in, or any friends he had. Bruce was hoping to discover a little more about Jeff's past from his speech. But then again, no one really knew what went on in the boy's head, and that made him unpredictable at times.

Jeff walked to the head of the class, and gazed out at all the students who stared back at him. Mrs. Smith sat in an empty desk at the back of the room and motioned for Jeff to begin. He took a long breath, shaking the anxiousness from his body and began.

"The concepts of good and evil have been used since the beginning of time. They were taught to us at a very young age, when our parents discouraged certain actions and rewarded others. Our laws, rules, and regulations are based on the cultural and social views on what is right and wrong. Every decision we make comes down to the possible consequences of our actions and our preconceived notions of good and evil.

"However, our depictions of these ideas are not complete. We are told that stealing is wrong, but what if someone steals food in order to survive because they don't have the money to pay for it. In some parts of the world, women are forced to wear shawls and conceal their faces. Women who do not do so are considered to be sinning and are persecuted. However, women in states are encouraged by fashion to wear as little as possible to attract mates. With all these contradictions, it's difficult to know if there are all encompassing categories of good and evil that people and actions are divided into. After all, we humans can only be exposed to so many perspectives, so we can never truly see what is good or evil when we are blinded by our shortsightedness. Some people even doubt the existence of good and evil, since everything seems to fall in one giant grey area.

"I am not here to debate the existence of these concepts, since doing so would be a great waste of time filled with arguments based solely on beliefs rather than evidence. Real or unreal, these forces play definite roles in our life. Whatever we consider evil, we steer clear of, and we pursue what we see as worthwhile and good. It doesn't matter if these things are truly good or evil, what matters is how they affect us. We are bombarded with choices – choices which force us to decide between what we consider good and evil (in some cases). We are not always forced into this difficult situation, say with choices like whether you should have pizza or lasagna for dinner. Instead, pretend someone moves in front of you while in the lunch line. You are forced to make a choice. Do you stay where you are and do nothing? Do you say something to the person? Do you push them out of line or use some form of physical revenge? Do you plan for revenge later, maybe cutting them in the lunch line the next day? Part of you recognizes that having one extra person in front of you in the lunch line is no big deal, while another part of you wants retribution.

"In the hope of avoiding the terms of good and evil, I will refer to these two parts inside all of us the light side and dark side for you _Star Wars_ fans. These two parts to our whole are the driving factors in our decision making. Our light side emphasizes what we determine to be good, while our dark side nudges us to the evil choice. It is in this way that decision making becomes difficult for us, since we have two forces inside us pushing us toward two polar reactions. No matter the situation, we are always givena choice.

"It is an admitted fact that we humans are not all the same. We exist with differences, and those variations include our choices. If we put two people in the same situation, there is no guarantee that they will react in the same way – they may make different decisions. Ultimately, this variation comes down the light and dark sides that exist in the people. One may have listened to his light side, while the other may have chosen her dark side to follow. What is the cause of this variation, you may ask? Things like consequences, past experiences, and background information come into play at this part. These sources of extra info may aid one side or diminish another. We may decide that murder is wrong, but when someone we care about is in the line of fire, we may resort to extreme measures to save them.

"Do you all remember those Saturday morning cartoons that you used to watch when you were little? I bet you can remember one in particular that was your favorite. One where the hero always won in the end and the villain always lost. But can you tell me why the villain was evil? I'm sure he walked around in some dark cave or laboratory and always explained his plans to his mindless cohorts before maniacally laughing his head off in the age old cliché. Everyone knew he was evil, but the only way they could tell was from his decisions – maybe he wanted to destroy the world (a not so worthwhile effort since he'd probably die in the process as well) or he wanted to be rich. But nobody knowswhere those ambitions came from. The villain himself knows that he is doing wrong, since he has already proclaimed his campaign in the name of evil. What has made his dark side so overpowering that he no longer wish to do good? The answer lies in the background information I have already mentioned. Maybe the man used to be a poor little boy who promised himself he'd do anything he could to get the money he needed when he was old enough. Maybe he was an orphan who wishes to destroy any and all people who could be the parents who left him for dead. Maybe he was cut too many times in the lunch line.

"The truth of the matter is that we all have the potential inside us to be exactly like the villain we watched when we were young. We all have the potential to do good, and the potential to do evil via the conflicting forces inside us. All those convicts on death row were kids at one point in their life too. What sets us all apart from one another are our choices."

Jeff took a deep breath and paused for a moment, gazing out at all the students. They were all focused solely on him, hanging on his last statement.

"Which side will you listen to?"

He gathered his papers and took another deep breath. He walked away from the front of the classroom, making his way back to his seat. The class was too far lost in thought to even consider applauding the speech their classmate had just given. In the back of the classroom, Mrs. Smith smiled to herself as she made some last minute notes.

_Yes, that boy will be perfect._

She wrote down a few more notes and then gazed up at the class, which was still silently sitting in their seats, gazing off into space.

"Superb speech, Jeff." Mrs. Smith spoke out loud breaking the silence and returning everyone else back to reality. Some students finally noticed that Jeff had finished speaking and attempted to clap for his oration, but Mrs. Smith cut them off, "A little long, but I won't take points off for the extra work you put into that piece of work. However, since Jeff's speech took twenty minutes, the remaining people will have to give their speeches tomorrow. Class dismissed."

Slowly the class gathered their books and herded themselves out the door. Mrs. Smith pulled out an official looking form and quickly filled it out. She then placed it into an envelope marked for the nearby government center and used a red marker to write on the front.

"IMPORTANT: BR"

Satisfied with herself, Mrs. Smith pulled her grade book out and found Jeff's name in the roster. Again with her red marker she wrote down A+ next to his name in an empty box and then closed it again.

_It's the least I can do for him, for all that lies ahead of him now._

She sat back in her chair as the next class filed into her classroom. But she paid them no heed as her mind began to wander. She picked up the envelope and placed it back into her desk, deciding to mail it once school let out.

_I wonder which side he'll listen to._

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 48, 50, 56, 61, 64

Pending danger zones: 32

(20) Contestants remaining


	37. The Grudge

Isaac (Boy #16) was tired. Granted, he hadn't been awake for very long – only about two hours – and he had slept for a good three hours before that. However, that time spent unconscious was brought about more by blood loss than by fatigue, and the sleep had been very restless. The only thing that seemed to be keeping him awake was the shooting pain that ran up his arm and into the rest of his body. He'd lost a couple of fingers in a previous battle, but it hadn't been on his good arm, so his katana was still of some use to him. In fact, things weren't as bad as they could have been for Isaac. It was past four in the morning, which meant that another area had become a danger zone, and since he was not still walking around without a head, it appeared that he hadn't accidentally wandered into it.

He knew what he needed to wake himself from the daze he appeared to be in. Isaac needed a battle. With the adrenaline pulsing through his body and his heart racing, he'd finally be aware of the world around him. It didn't need to be anything spectacular, since his fuel tank could run out if that fight lasted too long. But the sound of his sword clanging against another weapon, or the satisfying sensation of feeling the blade slice into flesh would be exactly the thing to help him regain his bearings.

Isaac dragged the katana along beside him as he slowly walked among the empty houses. Apparently his decision to come to the suburban area to find more victims was not a smart one, since he had not spotted a single contestant. In fact, he heard practically nothing at all. He'd heard plenty earlier – gun shots coming from every which way and screams too. But all that was gone now. And surprisingly enough, there were no bodies either. Isaac expected to see someone dead from all the commotion, but there was nothing. No more sound, no bodies, nothing. But that was about to change.

He turned the corner of a house, just like he had many times before. He saw many trees laid out before him and he sighed, realizing that he'd wandered aimlessly through the area without finding a single person. This wasn't the exact place he'd entered the suburban potion of the playing field, but he was sure it was nearby, maybe a little more west. Isaac slowly began to turn away to continue his search for victims, when his eyes picked up on the soft outlines made by a figure in the shadows. He froze, unsure whether or not he'd been spotted, but after squinting in the dark for a moment, he realized the contestant was facing away from him. Isaac carefully moved off to the side, the predator slowly stalking his prey.

Silently, Isaac sneaked his way around a house, a peered out from behind the corner, successfully flanking the contestant from the side. Again he squinted in the darkness, doing his best to size up his new opponent. The figure was definitely male, and he appeared to have no weapon drawn, which meant that he either didn't have a good one or that it was hidden somewhere. Isaac's eyes dropped and saw that the boy was looming over a large object on the ground. After a moment it came into focus and he realized that a corpse lay at the boy's feet. Even in the shadows, he could see the moonlight reflecting off the dead person's abnormally large smile. Isaac wondered if the boy he was looking at had been the one to take down the one on the ground. He stared long and hard at the boy in front of him, finally fighting away enough of the darkness to see his face.

Isaac's face dropped. He recognized the boy immediately. He knew first hand what he was capable of, how dangerous he could be. A part of Isaac wanted to run off right then and there, too nervous to take the boy on. He knew there was a very good chance that he could lose. But another part him recognized the danger in allowing the boy to continue living. Surely there couldn't be very many other major contenders like the one before him, except maybe for that girl he had run into very early in the game. The one that had completely kicked his ass, but allowed him to hobble away from the fight.

_No, this one needs to be taken down now._

Isaac focused all his attention on the boy before him, waiting for the perfect time to strike, his mind returning to their first encounter.

* * *

Derek (Boy #2) yawned from behind the counter. The radio in the corner wasn't working correctly again - it was picking up two stations at the same time and playing them together. And it was difficult to enjoy some heavy metal music while polka was being playing just as loudly. Who listened to polka music anyways? Surely it wasn't enough people to devote an entire station to the music.

Derek sighed. The music blasting in his ears was the only thing keeping him awake and saving him from the boredom of his job. Not very many people stopped at a gas station at one in the morning, and none of them came inside to buy anything. If anyone did show up, they pumped their gas, paid for it with a credit card or something like it, and drove off. The last person to go inside the gas station had bought some cigarettes and a box of condoms, smiling all the while. Derek had wished the young man a good night, and he'd been assured that it was about to get a lot better.

He wondered why he'd ever agreed to cover this shift. An image flashed into his mind, her curvaceous body slowly strutting over to him, and asking what he was doing the next night. Derek had taken it all in stride and hid the awkwardness with a confident attitude, telling her that he was free all night. She cooed that she was happy to hear it, and then said that he'd have no problem covering her shift at the gas station. And while that wasn't exactly the question he'd been hoping to hear next, he agreed to take the shift for her and she smiled with delight.

Derek smirked to himself, admitting in his mind that he'd do practically anything for a girl with a pretty face. His father had warned him how misleading girls could be, but when he saw that smile emerge on their face, Derek couldn't help feeling like he had just made the girl's day. And while that made him feel special, it usually meant that he was stuck in some sort of situation which he would have preferred to avoid. Still, at least she had stopped by to visit him and thank him again for taking her shift. She'd even told him that she'd make it up to him. Even if she didn't, Derek wouldn't care. That smile was all the payment he needed.

The radio sputtered loudly and Derek walked over to it, deciding to turn it off completely. He sighed again, this time a little deeper. He glanced at the clock on the wall near him, thinking about how much more time he was there. His shift ended at three, which meant another two hours stuck in that tiny store. At least his friend had agreed to stop by and keep him company for a little while. Where was he?

The door swung open quickly and the bell sounded. Derek glanced over and immediately knew something was wrong. Two people rushed into the store, ski masks covering their faces. One raced for the security camera placed in the corner while the other raced at him. He saw the gun a little too late and before he could press the silent alarm, the robber was upon him.

"Freeze!" Isaac yelled from behind the mask, the gun pointed straight at Derek's chest. The boy obeyed and slowly raised his hands in the air, the fear slowly creeping into his facial expression.

_Too fast! They came in too fast! Oh shit, I'm gonna die._

"Good, now open the register." Isaac glanced back at Gloria (Girl #22) who was busy doing her job of tearing apart the video camera. He smiled, recognizing that everything was moving like clockwork. They had become adept at these small robberies after many incidences like the current one. They'd had a few close calls – that one time when the person behind the counter pulled a gun on them - but somehow things always seemed to work in their favor, and they had plenty of cash to show for their exploits.

_But this is our last one. We can't keep this up forever._

Isaac threw Derek a small bag for him to fill with cash and as the dollars poured into the opening, Isaac's mind wandered to what lay in the near future. The whole point of robbing gas stations and liquor stores had been to get as many bills as possible, for one purpose - his fantasy. Gloria had asked him, and he had told her. He wanted to have sex like the rich men did. He wanted to cover his sheets with money, and just rock the mattress with Gloria, letting the dollars consume them both. Isaac knew how important money was in the real world. He knew.

The sound of the door opening surprised everyone inside the gas station. Every head turned and mouths dropped. He reacted instantly, rushing toward Isaac with inhuman speed. Isaac spun and fired once, missing the boy completely. He thrust his fist into Isaac's stomach and he doubled over in pain. A swift uppercut sent Isaac up into the air and the gun fell from his grasp. Another swift punch, and then a kick to his stomach and Isaac toppled to the ground in defeat. He picked up the gun and glanced up in just enough time to see Gloria madly swiping at him with her switchblade. She grunted from behind her mask as she lunged again, but he easily parried and spun her around, placing one arm around her neck and holding the gun to her forehead.

Bruce (Boy #23) exhaled the breath that he'd been holding since he first walked into the gas station. He allowed his body to relax only a bit as the boy before him slowly stood, shaking off the pains of the attack he had just suffered.

"Drop the knife." He commanded and instantly heard the clatter of metal as Gloria released her weapon. She felt the barrel of the gun pressed against her temple and she trembled slightly. They all stared at each other for a minute, nobody completely sure what their next move should be.

"Listen-" Isaac began, taking a step forward.

"Back off!" Bruce yelled out, and stepped back dragging Gloria with him and choking her slightly, "How do you like it when someone you care about is in the line of fire? Nobody hurts my friends!"

"Please…" Gloria whispered, but received no reply.

"The silent alarm is on. The police will be here soon." Derek said from behind the counter, the realization of everything that had just occurred finally catching up with him.

_Fuck! I can't get arrested, not like this! Armed robbery is too long of a sentence to serve. But what can I do with this gun to my head?_

Nobody moved as another minute passed. Isaac knew he couldn't leave Gloria behind, so there was no point in trying to escape by himself. If she was caught, then he'd be joining her in jail soon enough – it wouldn't taking neuroscience to figure out who her accomplice was. Bruce was angry. These people had put Derek in danger, and nearly killed them both in the fight. He'd protect any of his friends just as fiercely – they all meant everything to him. But he'd done his part already. Derek was safe and the police were on their way. This period of waiting was starting to get to him, however. He didn't like the feel of the gun in his hand, and the girl seemed to constantly quiver in his grasp. He didn't like the feeling of holding her life in his hands.

Gloria was terrified. This boy had her captive, and soon the police would be there to take her and Isaac away. Everything had been going so well, and now it had all gone so horribly wrong. She and Isaac would be hauled off to prison and all their work would be for nothing. In the corner of her eye, she saw the gun shake ever so slightly in the boy's hand.

_He can't do it. There's no way he'd be able to pull the trigger._

It was a gamble, sure, but Gloria knew what the stakes were. Getting caught was unthinkable. The consequences were too awful to consider, all the problems with her parents and the fact that she'd have a record after this. It was risky, but she and Isaac needed to escape before the cops arrived.

Ever so quickly and discreetly, Gloria shoved her elbow back into the boy's gut. Bruce lurched forward and Gloria thrust her head back severely, connecting with Bruce's nose. Subconsciously he unwound his arm from around her neck and reached up to his damaged facial feature. This was all the hesitation either robber needed and they madly dashed for the door, exiting and racing off before either boy in the gas station knew what had happened.

They drove along the nearly empty street and both of them cringed when a cop car with its siren blazing raced past them toward the gas station. They'd escaped with only a few seconds to spare.

"Fuck." Isaac murmured and then slowly his anger took hold of him, "Fuck! That goddamn guy! Jesus, we could have been shot or arrested or-"

"Stop, Isaac." Gloria whispered from the passenger seat. He glanced over at her and saw that she was still trembling. Having the gun placed to her head had frightened her more than either of them would have known. She pulled the mask from her head and slowly the tears ran down her face as she shook more.

He sighed from where he sat and returned his eyes to the road. He reached out a hand and pulled her close to him as he steered with the other. Sometimes he forgot that Gloria was still a chick, and that meant that she wasn't as tough as she seemed. Nothing had been her fault, and yet she was the one who had the gun pointed at her skull. And he had to admit that it took a lot of balls to do what she did, to attack the guy who was holding her captive.

She cried into his shoulder for only a minute or two, just to get it out of her system, and then she was fine, helping Isaac find the place they had stolen the car from. But despite everything that had gone wrong that night, Isaac knew that the most disappointing news was that they had not grabbed the money when they escaped. And that meant that his fantasy would remain as such.

* * *

Isaac seethed with pent up anger as he gazed at Bruce from behind the house. It was one thing to be completely bested and nearly caught robbing a store, but every day for the next two weeks, the media circled the story like vultures, picking away at it until there was absolutely nothing more they could report. The news told the story over and over, replaying the same interview Bruce had with a reporter. He was named a modest hero, who only wanted to protect his friend.

_You should focus on protecting yourself in The Program._

Isaac took a deep breath, watching Bruce for any sudden movements. As far as he could tell, the boy was not aware of the other's presence, and Isaac knew he'd need every advantage in the upcoming battle. He had been beaten last time, but he knew what he was up against this time. He would not lose. Isaac steadied himself and prepared to strike.

* * *

Kim (Girl #15) woke with a start. The harsh reality that surrounded her, as well as the other contestants in the playing field, returned to her almost immediately. She pushed herself up off the ground, her hand moving to a sore area on her chest. She rubbed the stiffness from her body and began to stand. The huntress suddenly became aware of some object that slipped off her legs and she gazed down, staring at the corpse before her. Kim gasped and kicked it away in shock before the rest of her memory returned to her.

She remembered feeling very tired, and deciding to stop to rest. She remembered draping the dead body over her body to make herself appear dead, and she supposed that it had worked, although there was no guarantee someone had happened upon her. Still, Kim was still alive, and that was all that mattered at that point. The huntress moved to the side where she had hidden her duffel bag and pulled the nail gun from it, already feeling safer with it in her grasp.

The next thing she pulled from the bag was the watch and she squinted at it in the dark, finally noticing the hands. She'd been asleep for a good two hours, maybe more, but it had served the purpose she hoped it would. The fatigue she had experienced earlier was long gone, and her alertness had returned. She was ready to take down some murderers.

After checking her map, Kim looked closely at the options laid out before her. There was a sole area of suburban housing off to her west, and a large area to her east. Since a large amount of the urban setting had been eliminated by danger zones, that made those area convenient hiding places. Since Kim was not looking for victims, but rather predators, she was about to look for another area to move to. However, it struck Kim that many other people would be looking for victims, and if they made the same mental connection she just had, they would be heading to those blocks.

_To track a killer, you have to think like a killer._

The larger area might attract more people with its size, but the smaller area would much easier to search, since it was only a single block. She figured that she'd be able to make it there around the time of the next announcement if she took her time, and maybe scoped out some of the beach as well.

Kim, feeling very satisfied with herself, set off eastward toward her new destination. But satisfaction wasn't the only thing present inside her at the moment; there was also a sense of anticipation pushing her on. She couldn't quite explain it exactly, but she remembered back in the apartment she had felt this overwhelming sense of doom and anxiety. And while that wasn't completely gone, another part of her was glad to be out in the open, in the middle of things, making an impact. Kim guessed it had something to do with what she was now capable of. Back with her friends, she was always on the defensive, forced into merely reacting rather than causing anything herself. She'd felt so helpless then. That was what Kim hated most – feeling helpless. Well, she wasn't that way anymore. She was in the battlefield, making a difference to both herself and her friends. Things would be different now.

_There's nothing worse than being helpless._

The huntress continued on.

* * *

Bruce stared down at the boy at his feet. The shock of the corpse before him affected him more than he would have guessed. After all, Paul (Boy #21) was not the first dead body Bruce had come across. In fact, he'd stumbled across someone becoming a corpse. He'd figured that the shock of seeing his best friend murder someone had been the driving factor in his surprise. And yet he found himself once again frozen in his tracks as he gazed at Paul below him. Death was all around him, why was this affecting him so much?

_He was alive two hours ago._

Bruce saw the Cheshire cat grin forever smeared on the corpse's body, and he remembered back to the fight in the darkness of the forest, when that smile was the only thing he could see in the darkness. And then Bruce remembered his battle on the beach. Too him, it seemed so recent, and yet here was one of his adversaries, dead as a doornail two hours later.

_Will I be alive two hours from now?_

Bruce barely picked up the sound of rushing footsteps toward him, and he jumped to side, just as a katana sliced through the air where his head had been. There were two more quick swipes, but Bruce dodged them both and then thrust out a fist, knocking back his assailant. Isaac stumbled back and scowled in the moonlight.

"Stop!" Bruce called out and raised his hands defensively, "I don't want to hurt you. Just leave me alone."

"Not a chance." Isaac hissed and raised his sword. Bruce stopped for a moment, feeling as though he had heard the voice somewhere before. "I know how dangerous you are."

Bruce's eyes narrowed. He was only truly dangerous to those who were looking to win The Program. The boy before him was playing, and that was why Bruce was a threat. He wanted Bruce dead, and would stop at nothing to get it.

"Besides," Isaac smirked arrogantly, "We have unfinished business."

Isaac rushed forward, swinging hard with his katana. Bruce rolled to the side, avoiding the slash. His hand quickly moved to his back pocket and gripped the handle of his kitchen knife. He hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not to draw his own weapon. But as Isaac lunged at him again, Bruce knew he'd need the extra forced of the blade to win the fight. He swung out his arm, slightly cutting his back pocket as he pulled the knife from it, and used the force to knock Isaac's sword off course and leave the boy open for an attack. Bruce swung out his leg and buried it into Isaac's gut and then rushed in to plant a punch to each side of his face. Isaac reeled from the attack and stumbled back, his stump of a hand still wrapped up tenderly touching his bleeding lip.

Isaac sneered at the boy before him and Bruce moved into a defensive position. Isaac gripped his katana hard before moving it around in his hand so that he now held the handle the opposite way. Bruce stared with confusion as to what Isaac was doing holding his sword that way. Isaac gripped the handle even tighter and the blunt side of the sword was forced tightly against his forearm. He ran forward at Bruce, who was still unsure of how to react. The boy stopped a foot in front of Bruce and swiveled his body, sending his forearm and the katana towards Bruce's neck. Bruce's eyes widened in shock and he ducked just in time. Isaac continued his spin and extended his leg outwards, connecting with Bruce's side.

Bruce toppled to the ground and gazed up. Isaac was already upon him and performing what would have been an elbow drop. However, with the sword against his arm, the blade sailed down toward Bruce's face to impale him. He threw himself back and rose to a knee as the katana stuck into the ground where his head once was. Isaac didn't miss a beat however, using the handle of the sword that was deep in the soil to lift himself up and forward at Bruce. The boy sent a flying kick into Bruce's face and knocked him back. Isaac stopped for a moment and grabbed hold of the sword in the correct fashion, then turned and noticed that his last attack had knocked the knife from Bruce's hand. He grinned evilly as he charged toward the grounded boy, the katana high over his head.

The world stopped spinning for Bruce just in time to see Isaac swing down at his face.

"This is for butting in at the gas station!"

Time seemed to slow down. Bruce's mind raced back to that late night. He remembered seeing two people holding his friend hostage. He rushed in, defeating them both almost immediately and turning the gun on them. He stared hard at Isaac's face before him, watching the dark fabric slowly creeping over it and into the ski mask he had seen that night. The boy with the gun stood before him, the mask no longer hiding his identity.

_He nearly shot me then. He nearly shot Derek. He threatened my friend!_

Lightning quick, Bruce lashed out and grabbed the base of the katana, stopping it from coming any closer to him. The blade sunk deep into his palm, and the blood quickly dripped down his arm. Isaac gasped in shock as he tried to push the sword further, but found that it would no longer move. Bruce hissed with rage and quickly lashed out with his knife, stabbing Isaac in his left shoulder. He howled with pain and released the katana, backing away from Bruce. His good right hand went to his damaged shoulder and then came off as he stared at the blood that stained his hand.

"You bastard!" Isaac rushed forward with a fist. Bruce dropped both blades and drifted to the side, Isaac's punch hitting only the air beneath Bruce's armpit. Bruce clamped his arm down, trapping Isaac's against his body. Isaac tried to swing with his damaged hand, but Bruce caught it in an open palm, and crushed it. Isaac screeched in pain as several bones in his deformed hand popped. The damaged boy dropped to a knee, trying to submit to the pain, but he only received more as Bruce launched up a pointed foot and sunk his hardened toes into Isaac's groin. Isaac didn't even bother crying out, since the numbness in his testicles fought off most of the attack, but the pain that did register quickly spread upwards and caused Isaac to vomit on the spot. He wiped his mouth, noticing that both of his hands were free. He gazed up and saw the dangerous end of his katana staring at him in the face.

Fury surged through Bruce's body as he stared at Isaac's helpless figure below him. He carefully placed the sword against Isaac's neck, preparing to cut through it in one swift swipe.

_Finish him off! He threatened Derek back at that gas station. And he's playing. If I don't kill him now, there's a chance he'll kill more people. That means he's threatening my friends that are still alive. I need to kill this bastard now!_

But suddenly it wasn't Isaac staring up at Bruce anymore. His apathetic face held more than Bruce could guess. Even staring into his eyes, Bruce was unable to see all the pain they concealed. Jeff (Boy #22) gazed up his best friend, his lips appeared to be moving, but Bruce couldn't hear what he was saying. He shook his head and blinked a couple of times, and everything returned to normal. Isaac remained on the ground, his breathing erratic and his body tense.

_Don't get confused! This isn't Jeff! Kill him!_

"…No…" Bruce sighed, lowering the katana. Isaac's eyes narrowed with suspicion as he watched Bruce carefully back away, grab his duffel bag, and shove the kitchen knife into his back pocket. He looked back at Isaac who remained on the ground, completely dumbstruck. "I'm not going to play. I'm here to find my friends and protect them. I'm letting you go. You won't be so lucky next time if I see you attack one of my friends."

Isaac's body relaxed a little, until he realized how much pain he was still in and he shuddered slightly.

"I'm keeping your sword, by the way." Bruce said quietly. He turned and began to walk away. Deep inside, all he could see was Jeff staring down the sword in his face.

_What do I do when it's Jeff at the opposite end of my blade? Do I let him go? Do I try to help him? No matter what happens, I have to help my friends. All of my friends. Even if that means killing Jeff to do it. But how can I kill Jeff? I couldn't even kill another murderer once Jeff had entered my mind._

Bruce sighed with anxiety, no longer sure what the right thing to do was anymore.

Slowly Isaac stood up. He watched Bruce's body disappear in the surrounding darkness, the confusion racing through his mind. He wasn't sure why he had been allowed to live, something about "protecting his friends", whatever the hell that meant. But Isaac was in no mood for complaining – by all rights he should be dead, but he was still alive. He had no weapons, but hopefully that would change soon. He hobbled over to his duffel bag and sorely lifted it off the ground.

The battle hadn't gone as well as he had hoped, but he was still alive, and that was the preferred outcome. He glanced over at his bleeding shoulder and sighed in frustration. All these injuries were weighing him down – it may only be a matter of time before some other contestant got the upper hand on him. And those odds only went up since he had no weapon to protect himself with.

Isaac hoped that the next person he ran into had a good weapon for him to take. A part of him hoped that his next victim was one of Bruce's friends, just to drive home the point that second chances came with a price.

_A very steep price…_

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 41, 48, 50, 56, 61, 64

Pending danger zones: none

(20) Contestants remaining


	38. Reunions

Kara (Girl #24) breathed heavily from where she sat beneath one of many trees that surrounded her. She'd been sitting there for a good half an hour, yet nothing seemed to calm her body down. That didn't surprise her completely, since she'd been running for nearly half a day, and lugging around her designated weapon – a bowling ball – was no easy feat during this race. The fear that had coursed throughout her had taken a long time to subside, and it pushed her forward, causing her to run until she had collapsed several times. Then once her energy returned she'd immediately get up and run again, making sure not to stay in any one place for too long. They'd surely catch her if she didn't keep running, if she stayed in one place. She'd remained in one location for too long last time, and Justin (Boy #18) was dead because of it.

_Justin…_

It pained her to think about him. She knew that he was dead because of her. They rested because she was too tired to keep going. They talked because she was frightened. And he stayed behind to give her enough time to escape. Justin was dead. And it was all her fault.

"I'm sorry." She whispered to herself, the tears slowly forming in her eyes. Deep in the back of her mind, she could hear the gunshot that ended his life. She sprinted through the dense forest, refusing to glance back, but the sound had tracked her down. The sole gunshot had echoed through the woods and had found its target as she ran around trees. Quickly it entered her ear and resounded inside her mind, driving home that Justin was gone.

He'd loved her. Kara was too sure of that now. They both knew that he'd die if he remained behind, and yet he knew he'd have to. They'd both be dead now if he had stayed with her, but he gave her a second chance. He'd given her life. And what had she given him in return? Absolutely nothing. She couldn't even utter the words that he wanted to hear. She'd loved him too – but only as a friend, and there was never going to be anything more than that.

A single tear slid down her cheek. The exhaustion caught up with her again, and her legs throbbed with overuse. Her breathing became even louder and heavier as she fought off the urge to sob. Justin was dead, but he was not the only friend she'd lost in the last day. Derek (Boy #2) was gone too. And so was Genevive (Girl #21). Kara wondered what had happened to them too – she wondered why they were dead. Whose faults were their deaths? Nothing could convince Kara that Genevive had died because of her own mistake – she was too smart to fall for any traps. She'd tried to escape, according to the announcements. That sounded a lot like Genevive – she did things her own way, always thinking things through until the end. Kara wondered who had gotten to Genevive before her work could be finished.

_They're all dying. All of them, slowly. They're dying all around me._

Kara let her head fall to her knees and she curled into a tiny ball, feeling the weight of The Program overwhelm her. It settled on her shoulders, trying to force her to collapse under its intense magnitude. She wanted to stand, to push the heavy load away from her, but it kept her in her fetal position, proving its superiority over the struggling girl. And just when she thought she was about to snap under its immense weight, a single word streaked through her mind.

…_PLAY…_

"No!" she gasped and struggled to breathe in, taking in the night air. Her erratic heartbeat slowly returned to normal as the weight dissipated from her shoulders. She wiped some sweat from her forehead and reached out, gripping her duffel bag and dragging it closer to her. She sighed with fatigue as she unzipped it and pulled a water bottle from its contents. As she quietly sipped the clear liquid, her thoughts returned to her friends, remembering the times they had spend watching movies or going mini golfing or merely enjoying each other's company. Derek would make some joke and Molly (Girl #9) would respond, both of them sharing similar senses of humor. They'd laugh together and then Genevive would add a comment or two and they'd all burst out laughing. Justin would be talking to Kara, and it seemed strange that she'd notice now how much attention he had given her. Jeff (Boy #22) would be silent as ever, nearly as aloof as he was participating in the group activity. And Bruce (Boy #23)…

_Bruce…_

"…Bruce would be with everyone, selflessly doing all he could for us." Another tear streaked down her face. Kara never truly understood where Bruce picked up his mannerism from. From the very first time she had seen him, she'd noticed how far out of his way he'd go for one of his friends. She remembered one time when she'd forgotten an assignment in her car right before the class was about to begin. Her teacher had a reputation for being a major bitch, and there was no way she'd let Kara run and get it. When she mentioned it to Bruce who was also in that class, he'd left without a word and was late to the class by ten minutes, with Kara's assignment in his hands, saying it was his fault it was late. He'd gotten detention for being late and lost some points on his own assignment, whereas Kara had no problems with hers. And when she'd talked with him afterwards, he'd shrugged the whole thing off, like it hadn't mattered at all.

Kara wondered where Bruce was at that moment. He was looking for her - there was no doubt about that. As long as he had not lost himself to The Program, he was looking for the friends he cared so much about. She thought back to a few minutes before when she had nearly felt the urge to play. Wouldn't Bruce also feel that temptation?

Her thoughts drifted back to that late night that felt like a lifetime ago. Back when Bruce had explained his thoughts about his father and his stepmother. Personally, she had never picked up on the claims Bruce made about his parents, but that didn't mean that they weren't correct. Bruce was not one to exaggerate or make up lies for attention – he definitely believed that his father and stepmother did not love him. And he truly felt that his friends were his new family. A person like that could never be convinced to kill those he cared for, no matter what the stakes were.

The depth of her thoughts was suddenly broken by the rustle of leaves from nearby. Kara tensed up and grabbed her duffel bag closer to her. She zipped it quickly and gripped the strap, slowly rising to her feet. Kara felt that the best way to wield her weapon was to leave it in the bag. The bowling ball had three holes in it for her to use, but swinging the heavy sphere inside her bag with her duffel bag's strap was a lot more comfortable and convenient. This way it would be hard for her to lose the bowling ball or break her fingers swinging it around.

Kara turned her head to the side as the rustling got louder. Then the sounds appeared to originate from her other side. She wanted to run away, but she wasn't sure which way the intruder was coming from. Kara gasped as a figure emerged from the forest upon her. She grunted as she swung upward with her bag, knocking the small figure to the ground.

"Get away from me!" Kara screamed as she gained up momentum and prepared to drop the bowling ball on the head of the other contestant.

"Kara!" a familiar voice cried out. Kara froze, letting the heavy duffel bag drop to the ground.

"Molly?"

Molly squinted in the darkness up at her friend, shuddering on the ground beneath her. She nodded, but then realized that Kara would not be able to see her in the darkness. She sighed with relief as she managed, "It's me." Molly could only imagine what might have happened if it was anyone else besides Kara who loomed over her. She was lucky that it wasn't someone who was playing.

"Oh my God." Kara uttered as she dropped to the ground and wrapped Molly in a warm embrace until she could no longer hold in the tears. Molly returned the hug with a smile, and although she was not crying, she was just as happy to find Kara as the other girl was to see Molly. Neither girl would have to face The Program alone as long as they remained together.

"It's okay, Kara," Molly said, "We're both safe now."

* * *

Beth (Girl #1) stumbled through the forest, her fear overpowering her so much that her sight was almost blurred by her rapid eye movements in all directions around her. She breathed heavily, the air almost becoming too thick to inhale. The sounds of the forest were too much of a sensory overload. There had been not nearly as many noises in the empty city. However, in the forest every leaf made a sound when the wind blew, every shadow moved at the slightest change in atmosphere, and every step brought Beth that much closer to cracking under the pressure.

_What if he – no, he's already dead. His name was read off a long time ago. I don't have to worry about him anymore – he can't hurt me anymore._

Nevertheless, Beth knew that there were other people out there who would hurt her. She'd run into three of them already. They tried to convince her that they didn't want to fight, but Beth knew better than that. She wouldn't be taken in by their lies – not ever again! All people were liars. He'd lied to her back then, and they'd lied to her too right before she fired at them. She knew that they'd keep lying until they got what they wanted from her, just like he did. And in The Program, they all wanted the same thing – they wanted her dead. Well, she'd seen through their fibs. However, things had not all gone well for Beth.

The first girl had not been a problem. She'd been strong, much too large of a target for her own good. Beth knew she'd attack the smaller, weaker looking girl, but Beth had showed her. She was dead now, and dead people told no lies. The boy was the second person she'd run into. She hadn't even waited for him to spew forth his untruths; instead Beth had opened fire on him at close range. She'd almost got him too, but he was able to escape. This didn't bother Beth too much, since scaring people away worked just as well as killing them. If she was left alone, then no one would be able to lie to her, no one would be able to kill her. The third girl was the problem. She'd broken Beth's arm and taken her gun. Beth knew the girl would have said she didn't want to fight if Beth had given her the chance, but that was clearly a lie since she'd nearly killed Beth.

_They all lie._

She stumbled through the woods, making plenty of noise despite her ever present fear of attracting attention. With her focus on everything around her, she never even saw the rock protruding from the ground. She fell with a cry and remained on the ground shivering from head to toe. Beth knew that she couldn't remain there on the dirt floor – sooner or later someone would find her. Or worse – the area would become a danger zone. Using all of her strength, the tiny girl pushed herself back onto her feet and walked on. She made it only twenty feet before she was attacked.

It began with leaves rustling, and then the sound of rushing air. Beth glanced behind her, expecting to see someone rushing at her in the darkness. But when she saw no one, it finally became clear that her attacker was coming from above her. She looked up just in time to see a feminine figure descend upon her, a flashing object igniting the darkness. Beth opened her mouth to scream, but felt her body convulse and her skin burn. She fell in a heap on the ground as the duffel bag was ripped from her shoulder. She sat up again in an effort to stand but heard the snapping sounds of the taser and felt an object jabbed into her side. The electricity raced through her body and she found it in her to release a chilling scream before unconsciously collapsing to the ground.

Luna (Girl #5) smirked slightly as she tore open the duffel bag, searching for a better weapon. She sighed when all she found were casings for some kind of gun. She didn't know if that meant the petite girl below her was only given ammunition as her weapon, or if she had been given a gun too. It didn't matter either way, though. What Luna had been sorely missing was not a weapon, but a map and a compass. She had been lucky that area containing the tree she had been hiding in had not gone danger zone. And she had also been lucky that this poor excuse for a contestant had wandered her way.

Luna wondered if she'd be able to finish the girl off with only her taser. She didn't know much about the electrical weapon, but she didn't expect it to shock the life out of Beth, no matter how fragile she appeared. No, her weapon was only useful to give her a means of escape if she needed it – she'd need something better to win The Program.

A sudden exhilaration raced through the gang whore as she stared down at her unconscious victim. She'd felt it as soon as she'd spotted her, stumbling around and making a huge ruckus. And it had only grown stronger as she waited in the tree, waiting for the right time to strike. The air had rushed all around her as she had plummeted out of the branches, increasing her excitement as she fell. Luna wasn't exactly sure to describe it, but she was beginning to understand the allure of The Program. Feeling the power of holding someone else's life in her very hands. She'd dated guys like Salvador (Boy #17) – the leaders of their packs, and she'd felt their power flow into her. But this was hers and hers alone. And she liked it.

With a glance back at the body behind her Luna set off, finally realizing that the girl may have drawn some attention to their spot, and that was only good if Luna could get the jump on the other contestants, not the other way around. She giggled softly to herself as the power continued to surge through her body.

_More…more power…_

* * *

Isaac (Boy #16) stumbled into the urban area, gripping his bleeding shoulder with his good hand, while his other arm hung limply by his side. He winced from the pain from the gash as he applied more pressure, but shook it off. He didn't have time to worry about his injuries – he was defenseless, and that was far more dangerous than any wound he had at that moment. Still, defenseless was better than dead.

He wasn't sure why he had come to the city zone of all places. The beach was too dangerous since there was no cover and few places to hide. And the forest was too scary. He doubted he'd truly admit it, but he didn't know how anyone could exist in the woods without a decent weapon of some kind. His katana had done the job before, giving him both protection and a sense of security, but now that he had only a duffel bag full of food wrappers and empty water bottles, he finally saw how terrifying the forest area could be. The shadows shifted every other minute and the wind whispered through the leaves – Isaac never knew if he was truly alone or if he was being watched.

So there he was, entering the barren city streets that were on the verge of the forest in the playing field. He knew it was dangerous to enter this area since it was swarming with danger zones, but it provided the best cover. The large buildings that were safe to enter contained many, many rooms, which gave Isaac plenty of places to rest and regain his bearings. If he was lucky, maybe he'd run into a potential victim and gain some form of protection from them, before taking them out of course.

Isaac glanced up at the sky as he hobbled forward. It was slowly become bluer and bluer before his eyes – the sun was rising. He sighed slightly and returned his eyes downward, focusing on his surroundings. It was futile to get caught up in the climbing star, since it would continue its path whether or not Isaac was still breathing. The danger was here on Earth, and he needed to find shelter before the light revealed him to potential threats. Besides, there was going to be another announcement soon, and he wanted to make sure he'd be able to take in all the information without interruption.

Glancing in all directions, the boy slinked forward, taking shelter in a nearby alley. The sun was not all the way in the sky yet, and this small inlet between buildings held enough darkness for him to hide in for the time being. He leaned against one of the walls and slid to the ground, finally allowing his body to relax some. When that happened however, his body throbbed with pain from his many injuries. His shoulder continued to bleed, luckily at a somewhat slower rate, and there was blood on the wrapping around his deformed hand which had its wounds reopened when it was crushed. And Isaac didn't even want to check his manhood. He could feel from the contact with his inner thighs that his testicles had swelled to an abnormal size, and he was pretty sure he'd felt blood drip out of his cock on several occasions. Things weren't looking so promising below the belt.

Isaac wasn't sure he was hearing things correctly for a moment, since it sounded as though footsteps were approaching him somewhere, but when the sounds gradually became louder, his body tensed up. Someone was coming near him. He carefully sat up from the ground, crouching low on the ground. The footsteps got even louder and he realized that some one was walking on the sidewalk that crossed in front of the alley he was in. Someone was about to walk right past him. He pictured his plan his mind very quickly – it was very simple. He'd wait for the person to appear in front of him, and then he'd tackle them, using what remained of his strength to grab their weapon and then depending on what it was, take them down or run off.

The footsteps roared over the silence of the area and he held his breath as a figure appeared before him. With a cry, Isaac launched himself out and grabbed hold of the small figure, bringing them both to the ground. A feminine gasp was heard and Isaac's eyes settled on the person beneath him.

"Isaac!" Gloria's (Girl #22) eyes widened from below him and suddenly she pulled him toward her, wrapping him in a fierce kiss. It took Isaac a moment to realize what had happened before he indulged in the kiss as well, feeling the sense of vulnerability leave him. He hugged the girl against him and felt the large object that hung around her arm jab him in the stomach. He finally released and stood, helping the girl to her feet with his good hand. He stared down at the Uzi she carried, nearly in shock that she possessed such a powerful weapon. Meanwhile, Gloria had the opportunity to once over Isaac, making note of his hand and bleeding shoulder.

"Isaac, what happened to you?" she asked as she gingerly took hold of his wrapped appendage, "And where is your sword?"

"That guy from the gas station." Isaac said with a breath of relief, "He took it from me and injured my shoulder."

"I ran into him when I was with that group of bitches. He nearly joined them. He's still alive then?"

"Yeah, I couldn't kill him, and for some reason he let me go."

Gloria glanced around the both of them, and then back at Isaac, "Come on, we can't stay out in the open. Let's find some shelter and we'll talk there."

Isaac nodded, once again admiring his girlfriend for always being a step ahead of him, and he followed after her as she checked her compass and map, searching for a good building to stay in for a while. She finally picked one that was nearby and the pair entered, quickly climbing two flights of stairs before jumping into a vacant room and closing the door behind them.

Gloria sighed and crossed over to the other side of the room, taking a glance out the window. She saw no one outside, and she breathed a sigh of relief, putting down both her duffel bag and Uzi, which clattered to the floor in one giant heap. Isaac did the same, his eyes once again wandering to the large gun his girlfriend possessed. Gloria knelt down and unzipped her bag, pulling two grenades from it and tossing them both to Isaac. He caught them and glanced back at Gloria in confusion. He saw a machete flying at him next and his eyes widened as the blade head for him. He dropped both metal orbs and caught the machete before it could fly into his chest.

"You're going to need some weapons." Gloria replied and Isaac nodded, putting all three objects into his duffel bag. For a brief moment, Isaac actually considered rushing forward and swinging the blood stained machete into Gloria's head, and taking her powerful gun as his own, but he quickly shook that thought away, wondering just how much this game was beginning to affect him.

Without warning, Gloria raced at Isaac and kissed him again, her hands slowly reaching down to undo his pants. He parted from the kiss and grabbed hold of her hands, staring down at her confused face, with an apologetic expression of his own.

"We're gonna have to hold off on sex for a little while."

* * *

Nathan (Boy #19) stared out one of the few windows out into the playing field. The sun was almost nearly in the sky at this point, and while it blinded him slightly, he refused to look away. He didn't want to miss any potential allies if they drifted by. Ariana (Girl #18) had been a good addition, since she had some decent weapons, however she appeared to be too weak to assist in a fight. And despite that the girl had two objects – a tire iron and an ice pick – she had not offered either to Nathan, who still only had his playing cards. Nathan almost wanted to ask that she share, but he guessed that she was still a little hesitant to place all her trust in these two boys that she had only been with for two hours or so, and there was no reason to frighten her off.

Speaking of time, it was almost time for another announcement. Nathan wondered how many would be dead this time around. He knew at least one name that was going to be on the list, since he'd watched the murder take place. Nathan glanced over at his boyfriend Minh (Boy #6) who still gripped his shotgun with fervor. The gun was loaded to maximum capacity and ready to be fired at a moment's notice. Nathan could understand the anxiety that flowed through the small Asian, since he hadn't appeared particularly comfortable since Ariana had joined them, but Nathan hoped that he understood how important it was to build their ranks.

"I didn't think I'd see the sun again." Ariana murmured from her corner. Both boys looked at her, but neither said anything. "There have been so many times where…where I was almost…almost killed. When those boys found me, they tried…tried to rape me. But they started fighting about who would go first, and then starting bringing up stuff from their pasts and before I knew it, they were stabbing each other and beating each other with their weapons. And then they were both dead right before me, and my hands still trapped with the handcuffs. I was so lucky that no one found me when I was breaking the chain. And then when that gun was pointed at my forehead…if you both hadn't showed up…" Ariana let tears form in her eyes. Right on cue, Nathan was by her side, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"You don't have to think about any of that anymore." He smiled warmly at her and she returned the smile, "You won't have to face anything alone."

Minh winced slightly, the words sounding very familiar to him. He remembered that night, staring out at the frozen lake, hearing those words being spoken to him by the same boy. He remembered how comforting those simple words were, and a part of him knew how Ariana felt. Facing something as horrific as The Program alone was unbearable – Minh wasn't sure how he had lasted so long as his own before Nathan had showed up. And yet another Minh was feeling something completely different. At first he wasn't sure what it was, but slowly the green eyed monster made itself known to him.

_Jealous? Why should I be jealous of her? Nathan loves me, and besides, he's gay. There's no reason for me to be jealous of her._

But despite the rationale in his thoughts, Minh couldn't stop himself from feeling contempt for the girl. She was intruding on the time Minh and Nathan would be spending together, time that Nathan was wasting away by comforting her. They could, and most likely would be, all be dead within a day, and Minh wanted to spend what little time left with the most important person in his life – alone.

But there was more than his selfishness at play at that moment too. He couldn't really explain it, but for some reason, Ariana seemed extremely fake to him. He was convinced that this weak creature crying in the corner was not the same girl he'd seen at school confidently walking down the hallways. The Program did things to people, but Ariana was smart, and if she was playing, this would be exactly the way he'd see her doing it. She'd use people's vulnerability against them, fooling them into thinking she was less dangerous than she truly was. Still, there was no evidence to support this thought, and Minh guessed that his paranoia was also distorting his judgment.

"Not alone." Ariana whispered as she wiped away her fake tears.

_This one is completely fooled. I'd be able to take him down right now if his Asian fuck buddy wasn't over there with that shotgun. I'm going have to trick the both of them if I'm ever going to get that shotgun and kill them._

"Have either of you read Dante's _Inferno_?" she asked and both boys seemed to be taken aback by her random question.

"No." Minh replied quickly and coldly.

"I haven't read it, but isn't it that book about a guy who goes down into hell?" Nathan replied with a confused expression.

"Yes," Ariana replied, her inner thoughts not at all surprised that these two boys would have such limited knowledge, and such weak minds, "Dante travels down into the depths of hell, and describes each level as he passes through it. There are nine-" she winces "-nine levels in hell, and Dante travels all the way down to the bottom. Many people think that murder is at the very bottom of hell, but it is only the seventh level, and I think that if anyone asked me before The Program which level of hell I'd place it in, I would say the seventh, since that's what is going on here – murder. But now that I'm in it, I've changed my mind. This game revolves around betrayal. We're not just trying to survive out here; we're betraying the lives of other people so that we can continue living."

She paused for a moment and let her words sink in to her gracious audience. She took a quick glance at Minh from the corner of her eye, and while he wasn't looking directly at her, he was listening intently, hanging on her words.

"Betrayal is found at the very bottom of hell, in the ninth level. In that last level, at the very bottom is the section called Judecca, named for the betrayer Judas of the Bible. Those who commit crimes with great historical or societal consequences are banished to this bowel of hell, the lowest of the low. And by killing off each other, we're killing off the future, because it's in us that the future lies. What could be more socially or historically detrimental than killing the future? All the people who created The Program, and everyone who plays, they're all committing the worst betrayal there is. But somehow, I don't think that the ninth level, or even the tenth level if it existed, could be worse than what we're all subjected to, right now,"

_Let's see them swallow that piece of garbage. Still, statistics show that people trust those they can connect with. Anyone not playing will be able to relate to that speech I vomited up. And if they can't…there's something that every teenager hates…their parents._

"That was pretty deep, Ariana." Nathan replied, his comforting hand once again placed delicately on her shoulder, "When did you read that book?"

_Bingo._

"I read it when I was six."

"Six!" Minh gasped from his side of the room.

"Yeah," Ariana replied with a sheepish smile, "My father…always pushed me beyond my limits. I was reading at eighteen months, and he kept giving me more and more advanced books to read, and then quizzing me on them. He'd have me read the encyclopedia when he had no new books at the moment."

"That sounds…" Nathan didn't finish. He'd never heard anything so intense, and he couldn't imagine anyone actually enjoying that way of life.

"It was awful." Ariana replied, a tear streaming down her cheek, "When I wasn't reading I was doing algebra, or balancing equations, or learning Spanish. And no matter how much I knew, it was never enough! I hate my father so much…"

She let her tears fall, and Ariana was surprised that she didn't have to force them. There was plenty of truth in her words, since she was pushed to her mental limits nearly every day, and she blamed her father for being too hard on her. But if he had not done that, she would not have placed so much emphasis on her mind. Still, somewhere deep inside her, it did make her feel a little bit better to say those things, almost as if she had wanted to tell someone them for a long time.

She didn't fight it when Nathan wrapped her in a hug, and she found it to be surprisingly welcoming. She let her tears soak a small portion of her shirt as her thoughts drifted off.

_I don't think I've ever felt this safe in someone's arms. It's too bad, Nathan. Maybe if things were different, if The Program didn't exist, if you were interested in women, maybe we could have been something then…he's so warm…_

Nathan released her once she was done crying, and watched as Minh approached the both of them, standing over them on the floor. He took a deep breath, staring down at the girl with a little more emotion than he had before.

"I'm sorry that your father was so harsh on you." He said, "My parents weren't exactly thrilled when I told them about…Nathan."

_I wouldn't mind getting a little alone time with Nathan, maybe I could change his mind about the whole "gay" thing. But first I'd have to get rid of this little Asian boy._

"We all have had our troubles in our past." Nathan said, glancing at both of the people in his midst, "But right now we all have the same problem – The Program. We all had to face our issues alone in the past. But now that we're together, we can overcome this problem together." He stuck out a fist in the middle of the three of them.

"Together." Minh repeated with lackluster and placed his hand on top of Nathan's.

"Together." Ariana said, smiling sweetly, placing her hand in the middle as well.

"All for one…"

"…and one for all."

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 41, 48, 50, 56, 61, 64

Pending danger zones: none

(20) Contestants remaining


	39. Announcements part 5

"_Rise and shine little warriors. It's six in the morning, and you all know what that means. It's time to once again inform you all how many of your friends are now dead. It's hard to find it within you to keep on going when your friends die on you – but keep fighting! It's the only way you'll be able to survive. I won't keep you all in suspense any longer. We have a total of five deaths in the last six hours, and it appears that the steady pace of eliminations is continuing. First up we have our very own medic, the nurturing Girl #16 – Lauren. I've seen people refuse to play before, but actually healing other contestants? It's a first, little warriors, and for it she's immortalized in our record book. Next on the list we have the little nurse's boyfriend, Boy #9 – Larry. He put up a considerable fight, since it appeared the loss of his girlfriend drove him over the edge, but it wasn't quite good enough. Next on the list we have Boy #10 – Peter, who now swims with the fishes. I haven't seen a drowning in quite a few seasons, and I'd congratulate the contestant who accomplished it, if he was not the next name on the list, Boy #21 – Paul. You'd be surprised how large the boy's fan base was and a good number of people were shocked over his sudden demise. And while he's no longer in The Program, I believe I speak for everyone when I say that his smile will be the one thing none of us ever forget about the young man. And finally wrapping it up, we have not so lucky Girl #13 – Amy. A solid number of deaths in six hours, however blood baths pull in the large ratings, as do impressive death scenes, so if it's not too much trouble, how about aiming for one of those? Now it's time to pull out those pencils and mark down those areas that are now danger zones. We're sticking with only three areas during this new segment, so you can breathe a little easier and focus instead on stopping the breaths of others. As soon as this announcement is over, block 63 will be a danger zone, so it's time to run for the hills if you're currently hiding there on the beach, since this announcement won't be lasting too much longer. In any case, in two hours from now, at eight this morning, block 34 will be the next area to avoid. In four hours from now, at ten this morning, block 5 becomes forbidden. If you're smart or just plain lucky, in six hours from now, I'll be back to give you the next set of vital information. And before I leave you all to continue with your performances, let me just remind you that the game does not end until there is only one of you left. Let's not forget the most essential rule of this game: kill or be killed. Happy hunting!"_

* * *

Bruce (Boy #23) finished writing down the information and winced as he gazed at his hand and the red fabric wrapped around his palm. The gash to his hand hurt considerably, but it didn't appear to be bleeding anymore. Bruce would have guessed that he would have lost the upper portion of his hand if someone told him he'd be grabbing a sword. He was lucky that he grabbed it at its base of the force of the weapon could have sliced his hand in half. However, the wound was still deep and would make things a little more difficult when fighting.

_I let him go._

He sighed, remembering the boy who had tried to kill him. Why hadn't he finished him off when he had the chance? He was back out in the playing field now – without a weapon, but still just as dangerous as ever. It was that flash of Jeff (Boy #22) that had stopped him. Bruce remembered raising the katana and preparing to slice it through Isaac's (Boy #16) neck, but suddenly it was Jeff there on the ground, trying to say something, whispering up at Bruce. He couldn't find it in him to kill Isaac. With all the death swarming all around him, he couldn't find enough to finish the job. He finally understood why it had bothered him so much to think that he had killed Peter in their previous battle. And while the news that Peter had died from something Paul had done and drowning, he had still felt guilty for inflicting near fatal harm to the boy.

Bruce had practiced martial arts for a long time, and he'd been in his share of fights, but he'd never had to go that far. Restraint was always emphasized, and Bruce had found that to be no problem. Other students in his class had trouble understanding when enough punishment was enough, but Bruce understood. He knew that the power and finesse inside him was not supposed to be a weapon, but as protection. His technique was a means to guard those he cared most for. His friends, his family – his martial arts were for them. To use his abilities for anything more than protection would be a betrayal to them, the ones he wished to protect, and a betrayal to himself, and a promise he made a long time ago…

He shook the memory away, not wanting to think of her. He'd get too sidetracked if he did, and there was still things that needed to get done. There were still two – no three, he had three friends, no matter what they did in The Program, they were all still his friends. And he needed to find them, to help them in any way he could.

_But where are they?_

Bruce sighed and gazed down at the map in front of him. He was almost positive he'd searched nearly the entirety of the playing field, and he'd run across very few people. He'd been trying so hard to find the people he cared most about, and for some reason he was constantly being denied. Was there something else involved that he didn't know about, or was it just a bad turn of events? Why was the one thing pushing him forward also the one thing he was constantly being denied? And why did he get the feeling that no matter how hard he looked, he would not find any of his friends until it was too late?

Pushing away the nagging feeling that he was doomed to failure, Bruce continued his search, the katana by his side. He'd use it if he had to – but only as protection. He would not be enticed into playing. He was no killer.

* * *

"This block is going to become a danger zone soon." Naomi (Girl #11) remarked, her eyes focused on the space in front of her. April (Girl #15) jumped a little, since it was the first time Naomi had spoken in some time. Truthfully, she wondered if Naomi was in the process of losing her mind to the game, since she was slowly becoming less and less responsive to April, who found the silence more than unbearable. The uncharacteristic actions of her friend were starting to unsettle April, and every once in a while she wondered if she should leave to protect herself from the possible danger. But as soon as the thought entered her head, she'd get angry at herself for even considering abandoning her friend. Naomi was all April had left, and she would not leave her. But despite April's confirmation of this decision over and over again, it was difficult for her to watch the girl who had always been so calm, so collected, so confident, and so competent just completely fall apart.

"We have four hours before block 5 becomes active. We can relax here a little longer." April replied, and waited for some kind of response. Slowly Naomi blinked and nodded, without ever making eye contact with her friend. A knot settled in April's stomach and she considered trying to make some more conversation. Naomi seemed to be on the verge of something, but April couldn't figure out what it was for the life of her. Maybe it was some kind of revelation, or maybe she could snap at any moment and try to beat April over the head with her collar detector. April was worried that talking would push Naomi too far, and that she could have a breakdown of some sort. But she was willing to take anything over this silence at that moment.

"Kim's (Girl #15) name wasn't announced. That means she's still alive out there somewhere." April said.

A part of April wished with all her heart that Kim would suddenly appear before them, uninjured and smiling, saying she'd found a way out. But a larger part of her recognized the impossibility of that claim. She was pretty sure that she'd never see Kim alive again.

_Why did you leave us Kim?_

April had gone over the exchange many times in her head in the duration of the deafening silence. She watched as Kim explained to her friends that she was leaving them. She said she was going to enter the playing field, looking for the people who were playing, and that this act would protect them. But April knew that that was just something to hide behind. The reasoning didn't add up – if Kim wanted to protect her friends, she'd have stayed with them, to stop killers when they came. Instead, she left them. No, there was something else at play going on inside Kim's head. It could have been revenge, but April guessed that it was something more than revenge.

"_Damn it, Naomi, I…I can't watch you and April die."_

Did she not want to be here if things got worse? No, that wasn't the answer.

"_I don't plan on making it out of The Program alive…"_

Did she go off to die? That was definitely not Kim's style. She'd always done things her own way, and would never submit to something as final as death without some kind of fight.

"…_sooner or later they'll come for us. And I'll be helpless if I have to worry about protecting you at the same time."_

The phrase clicked inside April's head. There was something about it, something that reminded her of something Kim had said once. She couldn't quite remember what it was exactly, and so she repeated the phrase over in her mind, and a single word stuck out at her.

_Helpless._

April wondered why she hadn't noticed it before – it made so much sense. As much as the silence had killed her back in that apartment, no one could have been hurting more than Kim, who was worried about possible threats. She hid her inclinations toward action behind logical strategies and reasoning, but once the precautionary tactics had proved to be just as dangerous as roaming the playing field, Kim realized that she was being helpless to her friends. She'd tried to shield them away from the game and two were now dead. So instead, she had decided to become a part of it, trying to destroy The Program from the inside, in the hopes that this new method would be more successful.

_She is trying to protect us._

"I don't care." Naomi finally replied and April shook away her thoughts. She thought she'd heard wrong at first, but then when she was sure she was not mistaken, April's face twisted in shock.

"What?"

"I don't care if Kim is alive or not."

"How can you say that?" April gasped, the knot in her stomach returning with a vengeance.

"She left us. She left us alone to die."

"No!" April replied with fervor, "She said she's trying to protect us."

"How?" Naomi demanded, her eyes finally meeting April's gaze from across the deserted alley, "By leaving us open to attack with a detector and a boomerang?"

"You're wrong." April said, her eyes settling on the floor, "It's more complicated than that."

"Sure it is." Naomi replied with a bitterness April had never heard before, "Don't you get it yet? Weren't you listening?"

April's mouth slowly opened in shock as Naomi's voice rose higher and higher.

"Only ONE survives! Not two, and certainly not three – ONE! Kim knew that – she learned it before the rest of us did and that's why she left. She's playing!"

"No!" April responded with an equally high voice, and then quieted down, afraid of attracting even more attention, "Kim can't be playing! If she was, she would have finished us off when she left."

"Why bother when she can leave us to die, and save the ammo in that nail gun of hers."

"Stop it Naomi!" April cried out, a tear slowly making its way down her cheek, "Just stop. Why are you talking like this? Have you truly lost all hope?"

"What hope is there to hold on to, April?" Naomi replied, her gaze finally drifting away from her friend, "The hope of surviving? The hope of escaping? All hope is lost, April. It's long gone."

The silence settled over the two girls again, this time more painful than the last. Naomi continued staring off into space. What remained of her faith was slowly being devoured by The Program, and there appeared to be no end to it. Meanwhile, April stared at the ground, the tears flowing slowly from her eyes. She cried for her friends who had died. She cried for Kim, who was still out in the playing field somewhere, whom she was convinced was doing all she could to help her friends in the abandoned side street. She cried for Naomi, who had lost all hope, who was nearly as dead as Taryn (Girl #3) and Cassie (Girl #4) on the inside.

And she cried for herself, since there was nothing she could do for any of them.

_Helpless._

* * *

"How are you holding up?" Connor (Boy #4) spoke up once he had finished making the necessary notes. Filtered light shone through the small windows near the top of the basement walls, and ignited the area inside the empty space. The two people encased inside the cement structure sat where they had all night, a night filled with silence, as well as a little action that had left one with a wounded leg.

"Fine." Leslie (Girl #25) responded simply. Silence resumed and Connor was the slightest surprised when Leslie asked him a question in return, "How's your leg?"

"The bleeding's stopped for the most part." He replied glancing down at the blood stained leg of his pants, "The pellets are still in there though, I can feel them. It doesn't hurt as much as it used to."

"Can you walk?"

"Huh?" the question caught him surprise. He stuttered for a moment, and then nodded, murmuring, "Yeah."

"Good." Leslie unzipped her bag and checked on the rope that sat coiled to one side. She tossed a wrapper and an empty water bottle out of the duffel bag and then zipped it up, finally rising to her feet. She pulled the stained hunting knife from her pocket and examined it before sliding the object back into her pants, blade down. She walked over to where Connor sat and reached down a hand. He grabbed it, still slightly confused as to what was going on, and was lifted up onto his feet.

"I assume that you're standing by your decision to go out and find allies, right?" Leslie asked him. He looked at her without answering for a moment, and then slowly nodded.

"Well then, we'd better get going." She carefully moved over to the basement door and pushed it open, flooding the basement with even more light from the rising sun. Connor hobbled over next to her, wincing slightly but taking the pain in stride, and gazed up into the sunlight.

"You sure you want to do this?" Connor turned to her.

"No, I don't." she replied, "But I know that regardless of what I do, you're going to go find people to join you, and go get yourself killed. And I don't want your death hanging over my head for the rest of this game."

_Why do I care? What does it matter to me if he dies or not?_

She gazed over at him and noticed that he was still looking at her. For a minute, her breath caught in her throat as she looked in his eyes, and saw all the emotion they held. She shook it away and scowled at him saying, "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing." He replied with a smirk and was the first to venture out into the light. Leslie stared after him, and she finally exhaled, realizing she had held her breath for a moment. She didn't want him to die. She had trouble admitting it to herself, but there was something inside her that wanted to keep him alive – at almost any cost.

"_I'm not going anywhere."_

He had said that, hadn't he? Even after Leslie had lost herself to rage, even after she nearly blew off his head with that shotgun. He had told her that he would not leave her. What could possibly be going on inside his head that would make him stay with her? They both knew that only one would survive, and yet he had remained by her side.

_He won't leave me._

And that thought gave Leslie more comfort than she had ever anticipated it would. No matter what would happen, he would stay with her – Leslie believed that. Hell, if she had come so close to murdering him, and he had not left, what more could she possibly do that would drive him away. Whatever was keeping Connor by her side, Leslie hoped that it wouldn't stop.

_Not even my parents stayed with me…too weak…they were too weak…_

"Leslie?" Connor's voice wafted down into the basement. Leslie shook her head, removing the thoughts from her mind. Now was not the time to get sidetracked, now was not the time to let her emotions shine through, now was not the time to become weak. A little over a day had passed, but there were still nearly 20 other people out there fighting for survival as well. There was still plenty more to come.

"Leslie?" Connor called out again.

"Coming." She quickly replied and walked out into the light to join her ally.

* * *

The gun lay at his side, loaded to full capacity, and within his reach just in case someone decided to barge through the doors. He sighed as the light shone through the open window, getting lost in the swirling dust illuminated by the solar energy. He was seated away from the window, however, hidden in the darkness of the corner where the sun had not yet reached. Now that night had gone, Carlos (Boy #3) was not frightened by the darkness. In fact, he embraced it, wanting to stay away from the all-revealing light. He unzipped his large bag and moved the flashlight and the contestant files around, searching for a spare water bottle. He didn't see any and wet his dry lips with his tongue, knowing that he'd need some water sooner or later.

He sighed and tilted back from the bag, leaning against the wall. The neatly files inside the bag however were now unbalanced thanks to Carlos' rummaging. The bag swayed and eventually tipped, some files spilling out onto the floor. With a breath of frustration he gathered them together and stuffed them back into his bag. However, one caught his attention. It was the only contestant file he had not read – his own. After all, what could the file tell him about himself that he didn't already know? With so many other pages to read, there had been to reason to waste his time on his own. But things were different now. He'd memorized a good chunk of information, if not all of it, and he had nothing else better to do. Who knew, maybe there was something in there that would give him a good laugh. He could have sure used it.

"Boy #3 – Carlos --

Designated Weapon: contestant files

Pertinent Background: Well, what did you expect to find here, Carlos?"

He stopped reading. He dropped the page and breathed a little heavier than he had been. His palms sweat slightly and he wiped them on his shirt before taking a deep, long breath, filling his lungs with the air that appeared to be taking its time entering his system.

_What the hell was that?_

Carlos carefully lifted the page and began reading again.

"…expect to find here, Carlos? Shouldn't you be the expert about your own life? Were you wondering if we put any information about your little sister, Carmen, in here? You sure a devoted older brother to her. Do you remember that time when you beat the shit out of that boy who had hit her? That was such a long time ago – do you remember who that boy was? It was Eric (Boy #5) – yeah, he was a little prick even as a kid. I wonder if he'll be looking for revenge for something so long ago, and then I remember that he probably can't remember that long ago. Do you wonder how your little sister must be feeling right now, knowing that her older brother is out there, fighting for his life? I'd bet she's feeling really anxious, that no matter how deformed or insane you may become, she just wants you back. And your parents must be feeling the same way. Are you going to let them down, Carlos? Don't you want to go home?"

Carlos' mouth slowly dropped as he gazed away from the paper. His eyes returned to the dust that was slowly and ever so gracefully dancing in the sunlight. The pieces clumped together and fell or broke apart, to rise back into the light where it was warm. His fixated eyes could not be removed from the spot, and slowly the particles took shape. He could see her face, slowly taking form in the dust.

"Carmen…" he whispered. The breathed escaped his mouth and flew through the air, rushing at the dust and blowing it away, and her face was gone. His eyes watered over and subconsciously his hand made its way into his pocket, grabbing the object and pulling it out for him to examine. His sister's necklace dangled in his grasp, the diamond shaped heart catching some sunlight and reflecting into his eyes. A tear streaked down his face and onto the paper, tearing his eyes away from the light and returning his gaze to the paper in his hand.

"Don't you want to go home?"

_Yeah, I do._

"Conclusion: Should Carlos successfully utilize the information that was given to him and realize that he has no true connections with anyone else, he has the potential to be a dark horse win. In other words, once Carlos plays, he can go home."

He stared down at the paper and the words stared back up him, neither of them refusing to blink. He reread the conclusion over and over and over again, taking in the full effects.

…_no true connections…_

He was alone in The Program. He had not made friends in school, since he had focused on his job. Most of his classmates would be going off to college, but he'd stay home, paying the bills and supporting his parents and Carmen. And he'd be getting a raise soon too.

…_go home…_

"I want to go home." Carlos whimpered and wiped away another tear, but then took a deep breath, his eyes falling on the gun by his side. He gazed back up at the necklace dangling in his hand, the shimmering light from the reflection of the sun that had slowly illuminated the entire room through the trees outside. He tore his eyes away and gazed back down at the gun, his depression slowly leaving. It was being replaced by something stronger, something more productive – anger. His eyes hardened as he spoke a little louder.

"I want to go home!" he demanded to the open air. He shoved the necklace back into his pocket and gripped the paper, shoving it back into his duffel bag.

…_dark horse win…_

If he had heard that expression earlier, he probably would have guessed it was some kind of racial joke, but it didn't matter to him now. There was only one word that mattered to him now.

…_win…_

The necklace burned in his pocket as he zipped up the bag and grabbed the revolver off the ground, holding it in his open hand. He stood and walked over to the closed door. He remembered how hard it had been for him to open the door the last time he had locked himself in an empty room. It was surprisingly easy this time.

…_WIN…_

The door swung open and Carlos marched out, into the hallway and down the stairs. He jumped down onto the first floor and raised his gun defensively, glancing around for any contestants. He saw no one and so he continued on, walking to the front door through which he had entered and swinging it open. He stepped out into the open air, the sun shining down on him. The forest surrounded the house on one side, and he knew that it would be dangerous to venture too far in that direction, since the playing field ended not too soon after. In fact, in less than two hours, he'd be trapped in that area for the rest of the game if he did not escape. Still, two hours was a long time, and it gave him a little time to investigate the rest of the tiny suburban area.

…_PLAY TO WIN…_

He gripped the revolver tightly in his hand and carefully made his way toward more houses in his area. Carlos would have guessed that making the decision to play would have disgusted him in some way, that he'd feel the humanity slowly drain from his body. But he surprisingly felt very little. He felt the desire to go home and the want to see his family again, and he felt the logic already placed in his mind – the sooner everyone else in the playing field died, the sooner he could go home.

"Carmen," he whispered to himself, "I'm coming home."

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 41, 48, 50, 56, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 5, 34

(20) Contestants remaining


	40. Explosion

She sobbed in what would have been the kitchen in the gutted house. However, everything was removed from the domicile, just like every other structure that was placed in the playing field. A few pipes remained in the empty home, jutting out of the walls like metals snakes waiting to ensnare some contestants. But she stared at neither the barren walls nor the twisted pipes. Instead, she stared down at her open palms, crying into them as softly as she could. She paused for a moment, trying to collect herself, but reality was too harsh on the girl and she began to cry again, feeling the hopelessness overwhelm her.

_They're all gone…_

All of her friends were gone. Shaina (Girl #12) had been first, and even though she hadn't known Shaina very well, she was a tough girl, and a strong person was always a good ally to have. But she was sure she could have moved on from Shaina's death if her closer friends were alive, but that was not the case either. Bonnie (Girl #20) was her next friend who had died, and recently they had announced that Amy (Girl #13) was dead now also.

Terri (Girl #6) was alone.

She took a deep breath, hiccupping on the intake and then slowly exhaled, trying her best to calm herself down. There was no point in grieving about it now. Crying would not bring them back from the dead. The truth of the matter was that she was never going to see them again alive. Terri fought back the urge to cry again and took another deep breath, pulling some food from her bag and taking a small bite before feeling incredibly nauseous and placing it back into her bag.

Terri knew she was going to die. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind – she did not have what it took to win. And in The Program, if you did not win, you died. Terri had recognized this fact very early in the game, and since then it had occupied a good portion of her thoughts. She'd found this spot very early in the game, and she felt that she'd bee lucky thus far – no one had found her there and the space had not gone danger zone. It was sole block in the western part of the playing field that both contained empty houses and had not become forbidden. However, there was a certain risk about being directly next to the edge of the playing field, not to mention have danger zones in the blocks directly north and south of the one she was currently in. And in less than two hours, the block directly east would be a danger zone as well, which would effectively trap Terri in that block for the rest of the game. She was not so sure how she felt about that. If other people were trapped with her, then she'd have nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. But if she was all alone in this block, she didn't have to worry about anyone coming to kill her. Then again, if her block went danger zone, she'd be dead for sure, and what happened at the end of the game when she couldn't leave, and other people couldn't get to her – they'd all die at the end of three days.

Her thoughts told her to leave the security of the empty home, but her body would not obey. The other contestants would be waiting for her out there, they'd kill her on sight – she was sure of it. With her friends gone, there was no more motivation for her to keep going.

_Why can't I just die and get it over with?_

Tears formed in the girl's eyes again as depression weighed heavily upon her. This wasn't wanted how she wanted to die. She wanted to die an old grandmother, lying in her bed, allowing the life to drain out of her after a fulfilling and joyous life. She wanted to die in her sleep, not wait for someone to blow her head off, of pierce her body with a blade, or choke the life out of her. She didn't want it to hurt. She didn't even have a weapon to commit suicide with. A gun would have been handy – a single shot to her head and it would all be over. But all she had received for her weapon was a long piece of telephone wire. Completely, useless in her opinion.

Terri had considered walking into a danger zone earlier in the game, to just end it all, and be through with this nightmare. But she didn't know if it would hurt, having her head being blown from the rest of her body. That wasn't something she wanted to risk. But the longer she remained in The Program, the more it ate away at her, and she could almost feel her sanity dripping off her body.

_It's all their fault! Bonnie and Amy are both dead because of The Program. IT'S THEIR FAULT!_

She felt the rage course through her veins and she hissed anger through her teeth as she lashed out with one her feet, hitting one of the metal pipes and denting it considerably. A sudden hiss erupted in the silence around her and Terri froze, unsure of where it was originating from. She wondered if someone had crept into the house without her realizing it, but eventually she found the source – the dented pipe she'd unleashed her rage upon. She crawled closer to her and her nostrils flared as she picked up the scent of gas being emitted.

_Gas? Isn't the gas and the water supposed to be shut off?_

Terri wasn't sure, but deep inside her frightened head, a connection was suddenly made. She'd heard of people committing suicide by sticking their head inside an oven and inhaling the fumes. It was like suffocating, since the brain received no oxygen, but the people passed out before they died, and went in their sleep, with no pain at all. This was her escape!

Terri jumped to her feet and quickly raced through the house, closing all windows that were close to the gas leak and then took a breath, already feeling slightly dizzy. A tear streaked down her face, as she realized that this house would be the last thing she'd ever see, but she wiped it away with resolve. There would be no more frightening anticipation, no more paranoia, and no more pain. Her life was now in her hands and her hands alone. She sat directly next to the leak, hearing the soft hiss next to her head and feeling the foreign gas enter her lungs. Her eyes slowly became heavy…

* * *

Carlos (Boy #3) heard the loud clang and jumped in the middle of the suburban clearing. His eyes darted around the area, scanning for any intruders, but he saw no other people. Still, he gripped his revolver tightly and took a deep nervous breath. He wasn't sure if he preferred night or day anymore. Night was definitely more terrifying, but he was a target at day – hiding was more difficult, and so was sneaking up on other contestants.

Sudden movement caught the boy's eye and he glanced to the side, noticing a feminine figure suddenly dart around inside a nearby house. He watched as she inched over to an open window and quietly closed it, moving on to the next. Carlos' eyebrows rose in slight confusion, but he shook it away. He couldn't get distracted, not now that he'd made it this far. His little sister, Carmen, was waiting for him at home, and he was going to make sure that he made it back there alive.

The girl he had seen was clearly unbalanced – she'd probably lost herself to The Program a long time ago, and her irrational actions most likely only made sense to her. Carlos could not tell whether this notion was going to make his job earlier, since he knew that crazy people were unpredictable. He'd run into a girl earlier who'd clearly lost her mind, the one with the Uzi. He'd been lucky he'd made it out of there alive. Whether this girl's condition was going to make her an easy kill or not was not easy to determine. But regardless, Carlos had decided to play, and he would continue with that.

His hand holding the revolver shook slightly as the anxiety ran quickly through his body. A quick breath shook the nerves out of his system, and he carefully approached the house. He glanced around, but didn't see anyone, but that didn't mean that no one was watching. He silently opened the door and entered.

Kim (Girl #17) emerged from her hiding place behind a nearby house. She'd recognized Carlos from when they had met earlier, but she was pretty sure that he had not had a gun back then. Adrenaline pumped through her system as she cautiously took two steps forward, and then paused, staring down at the nail gun she held. Besides the nails that were loaded into it, she had no extras, which meant that once she ran out of nails, she was helpless. She made a mental note to not waste her ammo until she was able to find a backup weapon.

Her mind drifted back to the first time she'd met Carlos, as she took another two steps forward. He'd looked so frightened then, clearly intimidated by the large group of females before him. But now he looked different. He appeared harder, colder, and more determined. Kim was not sure if that meant that he was playing, but she was sure that he'd changed. The Program had got to him, had twisted him from what he used to be, just like everyone else who played. They all resembled what they once were, but they were not the same people. Their beliefs, morals, and ideals were all morphed by The Program, twisted around to justify their actions.

Supporters of The Program stated that nothing out of nature existed in the game. Kim could remember the first time they'd talked about the implications and conditions of The Program on the television. They claimed that everyone chosen to be in The Program were the same people in the game that they were in everyday life. The most brutal were the most aggressive, the pacifists were the easy targets, and that everyone's true personas were revealed under these conditions. Kim could finally see that that was not true at all. This was not who they all truly were. Everyone in the playing field was affected by the rules enforced upon them – no one chose to act the way they do, they were just given no other choices. The major contenders of The Program were not destined to murder someone else in their life. The people who gave up were not the ones destined to commit suicide. And Kim was not some huntress, constantly on the prowl for danger. The Program did all of this to them. Maybe if it had not been there, maybe if The Program didn't exist, maybe all the contestants would find the relief they needed, instead of using their twisted notions to murder each other.

_Gloria_ (Girl #22)_…_

Kim took a deep breath, going over all the thoughts that had passed through her head. A scowl crossed her face as she remembered the cold stare that bitch had given and the wicked smile she'd displayed right before she tossed an active grenade into the group.

_Except her. All The Program did for her was give her an outlet to release the violence and deception waiting inside her. She was twisted before this game even began._

Kim wondered if every contestant was a little warped to begin with, and if those with the most damage were the ones who played with the most ferocity. She shook away her thoughts and approached the house where the confrontation between Carlos and Terri had already begun.

* * *

"Can I talk to you about your weapons?" Ariana (Girl #18) remarked as she glanced across the room at Nathan (Boy #19). She smiled prettily and glanced at the closed door. Minh (Boy #6) had just left to go piss on the wall in another room, and Ariana could not miss the chance to create a little tension between the two lovers.

"Sure you can." Nathan replied, with a smirk. He guessed that this had something to do with Ariana having both an ice pick and a tire iron, which Nathan still only his deck of playing cards. He'd wanted to ask her for one of her weapon as some form of protection, but could not find the right way to ask for her weapons. Since she had brought up the topic however, he guessed that she maybe she was about to place her trust in the two of them, and share her forms of protection.

"What don't you have the dagger?" she asked. Her question caught him off guard and he stuttered for a second, but he finally regained his senses.

"Dagger?" He mumbled and his mind raced to what she could possibly mean.

"That large boy," she remarked smiling innocently, "The one that Minh wanted to shoot. He had a dagger, didn't he? And didn't Minh pick it up? Why don't you have it?"

Nathan's mind raced back to the incident, and he sharply inhaled, realizing that Ariana was correct – Minh had picked up the dagger. Where was it?

"I mean," she continued, seeing the confusion settle in his eyes, "I was going to offer one of my own to you, but it didn't make sense to give up one of my lesser weapons when Minh has both a dagger and a shotgun. But since he still has not given it to you, I was wondering if there was some reason."

_How could I have forgotten about that dagger? Here I've been thinking that Ariana has been holding out on the both of us, but really it's been Minh who's hoarding the weapons._

Minh walked back into the room, carrying his duffel bag over shoulder and clutching his shotgun with both hands. He glanced over at Ariana who was anxiously smiling at him, and then averting her gaze. He moved his almond eyes to the side, where Nathan sat staring at him as well.

"What?" Minh asked, not sure of the emotion his boyfriend's eyes held.

"Do you still have the dagger?" Nathan asked. His eyes narrowed slowly.

"Dagger?" Minh parroted, his eyes rising to the ceiling in thought and then, the realization hit him. "Oh, right. I took it from that giant bastard." He unzipped his bag and produced the blade, walking over to Nathan and handing it to him. "Sorry, I meant to give it you, but I forgot that I still had it."

"Thanks." Nathan replied shortly, and took hold of the blade, and stood up, walking over to the window and glancing out of it. Minh was unsure what had happened, but his eyes settled on Ariana, who was still refusing to look at him, an uncomfortable expression that hid some other emotion beneath the surface.

_I bet she remembered that I still had the dagger._

Contempt rose in the small Asian's body as he stared over at the girl in his presence. His hands tightened on the shotgun in his hands and he pictured himself quickly taking aim and pulling the trigger, blasting a hole straight through her breasts. He shook the thought away, knowing that Nathan would not approve of more killing, not when all three were about to go out and search for more allies. And Minh wondered whether imagining the murder of someone he wasn't particularly fond of was a sign of his mental condition.

_That was solved easily enough, but it's in his mind. He wants to think that Minh only forgot to give him the dagger, but he can't bring himself to do it – not completely. He's getting angry at himself for feeling suspicious. He knows that we're going out to look for more people to join us soon, and that's going to take trust, trust that should already exist between him and the one he cares so much for. And yet he still can't bring himself to forget about the whole thing. As long as he holds that dagger, it will always be in his mind._

Ariana gazed at him staring out the window, picturing his thoughts taking form and circling his head for her to read like an open book. The seeds of suspicion had been placed ever so easily, and all over something so insignificant. She'd need this break between them if she'd ever be able to take them both down. And the prize for her deception? That lovely shotgun. Not exactly feminine, but a powerful weapon was one of the most important characteristics of previous Program winners. And with the shotgun, she'd complete the pattern.

With a sigh, Nathan turned and stared at the other two people in the room with him. "It's better to search in the light. Let's go now. The longer we wait, the more people will die."

Nathan was the first to leave the room, and Ariana and Minh found themselves alone staring intently at one another. Neither of them broke the stare, and the showdown continued on for what seemed like hours. Minh readjusted his grip on his shotgun and Ariana produced the tire iron from his duffel bag, and they continued to stare at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. They breathed slowly, unsure of what would happen, whether they would fight or if they would continue on as if nothing was happening.

"Are you guys coming?" Nathan's voice drifted into the room from far away. His call echoed off the walls and penetrated the both of them, causing one of Minh's hands to drop from his gun and causing Ariana to put away her metal bludgeon. They didn't say a word to each other and left the room together, meeting up with Nathan at the top of the stairs and walking down as the group of three. But an understanding had passed between the two of them. They did not like each other, and the tension between them would not subside any time soon. For the time being, they could deal with the strain that existed, but eventually it would get the better of them. And while Minh still had no idea of Ariana's true intentions, deep down, he knew that they were destined to fight in The Program. He just had no idea when that moment would be. But Ariana knew, and it was coming…

* * *

Jeff (Boy #22) glanced around Bruce's living room, an uncharacteristic smirk on his face. They were all around him in one place or another, laughing loudly or yelling for no particular reason. He wasn't sure who's idea it had been, probably Derek's (Boy #2), but somehow it had entered the group that no one had ever drank before. Molly (Girl #9) said that her parents were particular strict about this, and refused her even a sip of wine around the holidays. They were all going off to college in about a year, and they wanted to drink some alcohol with each other before they were introduced to it at college. Kara (Girl #24) said that she would be able to get her brother, Tony, to buy them the booze, saying that she had some blackmail over him, and it appeared that only Justin (Boy #18) knew what she meant. Bruce (Boy #23) said that he would be able to provide the place for them to drink, since his father and stepmother would be out for the weekend. They all told their parents they were staying at Bruce's house for the night to watch movies, since no one would be attempting to drive back to their home drunk as a skunk. Genevive (Girl #21) appeared to be the most hesitant about the whole thing, but after two beers, there she was doing a striptease for everyone else in the room.

Jeff had decided to refrain from drinking, since it was not in his nature to lose control over himself. But he was having as much fun as the others despite his normal blood alcohol level. Genevive continued her badly choreographed dance, falling all over the place and thrusting her ass at anyone close enough. Derek and Justin laughed and egged her on, before placing a bet between them to see who could finish a full beer first and they started chugging. Kara sat next to Molly on the couch and they appeared to be engaged in some kind of private conversation. And then there was Bruce, mingling with everyone before making his way over to Jeff.

"I think I'm in love with her, you know." The statement caught Jeff completely off guard and he spun his head quickly toward the boy who stood next to him. Bruce glanced back at him, a glazed look in his eyes. His eyes wandered for a moment and then returned back up to Jeff, as he swayed slightly.

"Kara." Jeff raised an eyebrow and then nodded as he glanced over at Molly and Kara who were still talking quietly right before Genevive pranced over and thrust her bosom between their faces yelling, "THREESOME!"

"How do you know?" Jeff asked, returning his gaze back to Bruce. Bruce shrugged very exaggeratedly and took a sip of his beer. He swallowed it and burped loudly.

"I don't really know." He slurred, "She makes me feel…special, you know? Like…I could do anything if I had her telling me I could."

Jeff nodded like he understood, but didn't. "How does she feel?"

"No idea." Bruce swayed too far one way and stumbled, regaining his balance, "I don't want to talk to her about it, 'cause I don't want to ruin our friendship if it's only one sided."

"I understand." Jeff replied.

"Which is why I don't want you to say anything to her." Bruce murmured, placing his hand on Jeff's shoulder and looking at him square in the eye. Jeff felt slightly uncomfortable and leaned away from his friend slightly. "I want you to promise me that you don't tell her anything, understand?"

Jeff nodded.

"Promise me." Bruce inched closer and Jeff could smell the foul beer on his breath.

"I promise." Jeff took a step back and Bruce's hand fell to his side. At this point Molly jumped up from her seat on the couch and joined Genevive on the dance floor, grinding to a song only the two of them could hear and laughing from the absurdity. Justin placed the money he had just won from Derek into his pocket and laughed at the two girls, cheering them on. Jeff noticed the empty seat next to Kara on the couch and he approached it, sitting down. He watched the rest of them all join in dancing to the silence in the room, and having a great time with it.

"I think I'm in love with Bruce." Jeff's eyes widened in shock as he glanced to the side where Kara sat, her eyes halfway closed and a near empty beer can in her hand. Jeff rolled his eyes and sighed before facing the girl who was on the verge of passing out.

"How do you know?" Jeff asked, feeling as though he could almost predict where this conversation was going. She attempted to shrug but failed miserably.

"I don't know." She replied, "He makes me feel…special, you know? You notice how he sacrifices so much of himself for us? That's why I think I love him – because of his devotion."

"How does he feel?" Jeff asked with the slightest smile on his face.

"Not a clue," Kara replied and shifted in her seat so that she could look at Jeff more easily, "I don't want to ruin our friendship if this feeling only goes one way, so I haven't talked to him about it."

"Well-" Jeff began.

"Listen, I don't want you telling any of this to Bruce." Kara interrupted him.

"Are you sure?" Jeff asked.

"Promise me you won't say anything to him." Kara said, moving close to him. Jeff could smell the same foul beer on her breath and he leaned away from her, sighing deeply and rolling his eyes in the lunacy of this moment.

"I promise." He said, standing up from the couch and walking over to a more secluded part of the room. He watched as a minute passed and Bruce made his way over to the empty seat, sitting next to Kara and whispering something to her to make them both giggle. Jeff stared at the two of them, remembering the two promises he had just made, and how much happier his friends would be if he broke them both. Still, he'd honor his friends' wishes. If they wanted to make this harder than it needed to be, that was their problem.

Some coughing off to the side caught Jeff's attention and he turned in enough time to see Genevive vomit onto the hardwood floor. Jeff quietly groaned to himself and made his way into the kitchen to get some paper towels and a sponge. He made a mental note to never drink with Genevive.

* * *

Carlos entered the house and a wave of dense air rushed over him. He coughed once, and soon his lungs adjusted to the atmosphere. He could hear some hissing in the distance, but his head had already become too fuzzy to make sense of it. He took a few steps forward and swayed into the wall, nearly collapsing against it. He yawned and then shook himself awake. This was no time to be crashing into walls and yawning – there was a contestant somewhere in this house.

The hissing had become louder and he moved toward it, unsure of what else to possibly do. He stumbled in what he expected to be the kitchen, and glanced off to the side. She was sitting there, her eyes slowly drooping with added weight. Carlos moved to get a little closer to her and his eyes fell on the pipes that jutted out of the wall right next to her body. The room spun momentarily, but when he finally regained himself he noticed that the hissing sound was coming from those pipes. The smell was definitely stronger in this room, and Carlos crashed down to one of his knees.

Terri heard the noise, but it took a good two minutes before it finally registered that she was no longer alone. It took more effort than she expected, but slowly her eyes opened, and she saw him, kneeling directly in front of her a few feet away. Her brain screamed in terror, but she could not bring herself to make any noise, to make any movement. Her thoughts yelled at her to get away, but her body did not respond. Instead, it watched as Carlos slowly rose to his feet again.

He stared down at her, and it took a minute to realize that the gun was still in his hand. She was staring directly at him, but made no effort to run away. Carlos tried to make sense of everything that was going on, but his mind was too clouded by the lack of oxygen. He saw that his intended victim was not moving, and all that did was make things easier for him. Summoning energy, Carlos raised the gun until it pointed straight at Terri's crouching body. Her mind screamed for her to move, but her body still refused to obey, and she watched as his finger moved to the trigger.

Carlos' vision faded for a second, but soon he regained it, the fuzzy imagines returning. His finger rested on the trigger and the anxiety welled up within him. He realized that he'd need to kill this girl to go home, that as long as she remained alive he would not be named the winner of The Program. But despite all that, the act weighed heavily on his conscience. He knew what he had to do, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Carlos had never officially met the girl before him, but whenever he passed her in the hall, he never would have guessed that he was going to be the one to end her life.

_For Carmen. I have to survive for her._

"I'm sorry." Carlos slurred as he pulled the trigger. The bullet raced through the barrel of the gun, rubbing up against the side. The friction of the metal bullet against the metal gun quickly created heat and the smallest of sparks formed. The spark ignited the gas inside the gun and raced through the air, setting fire to the rest of the gas inside of the room. The explosion ripped through the space between the two people and caused the entire house to shake as the flame rose high in the air and expanded quickly, blowing apart the house from the inside out.

Terri felt the bullet first, feeling it sink deep into her stomach, and then felt the fire race all over her body. "It hurts!" she shrieked as her hair quickly ignited. She glanced down to see the flesh melt away from her body as the fire consumed her. "IT HURTS!" She tried to scream again, but the intensity of the blast had already enveloped her, and soon it ended her life.

Outside, Kim watched as the house without warning exploded from the inside, the force pushing her back and knocking her down to the ground. Her mouth opened in shock on the ground as debris toppled everywhere. She watched the frame slowly topple over, the flame consuming everything in its path. And in the middle of it all, she watched him emerge. She saw the flesh dangling from his face and he appeared to be sweating blood. Burns covered his entire body, but nothing appeared to be fazing him. He continued walking forward, until he suddenly stopped, his eyes resting on Kim on the ground.

"Carmen." Carlos muttered as he looked down at the girl. His clothes were on fire, but he didn't seem to notice as he reached inside his pocket and produced a heart shaped diamond necklace. He took a few more steps toward the horrified Kim, more flesh falling off his body.

"Happy birthday, Carmen." He attempted to smile, but already his lips had been burned off his face. In horror, Kim raised her nail gun and fired it once, sending the nail deep into Carlos' chest. He jolted from the shot and his arm dangled to the side, finally returning to reality.

"You're not Carmen!" he tried to say, but instead it came out like some inhuman scream. Kim screamed too from the pure terror and fired again, this time the nail sailing directly into the boy's forehead. He collapsed to the ground, staring up at the sky, and despite the massive burns to his body, a single tear dripped down his face.

_I want to go home._

Kim watched as papers began to rain down from the sky, drifting in all directions as they burned. The contestant files littered the ground and continued burning on the ground where they finally rested. Kim shook the fear away and stood up, staring up at the papers that looked like burning leaves falling to the ground to die. She turned around, and walked away from the scene, knowing that it would be a good idea to leave this area before she was trapped there by the new danger zone.

Behind her, a leaf of paper landed on the ground and continued to burn under the morning sun. A good portion of it had been singed beyond recognition already, but at the top the writing could still be read.

"Boy #3 – Carlos --"

The name was consumed by the fire.

* * *

"Sir!" the officer ran over to Mr. Smith breathing heavily, "We're just received reports of a massive explosion in the western part of the playing field."

"Wasn't the water, gas, and electricity supposed to be shut off in the entirety of the playing field?" Mr. Smith hissed as he grabbed the report and began to read through it.

"Sir, we thought that was the case."

"Well, then, find the person responsible for leaving it on and make sure he's dead before tomorrow." Mr. Smith returned the report, "We have a lot of smart kids in the playing field, if the wrong contestant harnessed that power, who knows what could have happened."

"What should we do now, sir?"

Mr. Smith relaxed in his chair, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, "Don't worry about it. That area is about to be cut off by a danger zone in less than two hours, we won't have to worry about there being any other incidents like this one. But just for safety measures, make sure that the gas, water, and electricity have been turned off in the urban area and the other suburban area."

"Already done, sir." The officer smiled proudly, "All other utilities have been checked and turned off."

"Good work, soldier."

"Thank you, sir."

Mr. Smith puffed on his cigarette and exhaled slowly, letting the nicotine do its job. There would be no more occurrences like this one. He walked over to the camera station, and reran the footage, watching the explosion play out before his eyes.

_Well, at least this season's highlights will be something to brag about._

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 41, 48, 50, 56, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 5, 34

(18) Contestants remaining


	41. Memories

Isaac (Boy #16) leaned up against one of the four walls in the tiny room he found himself located in. The two grenades were safely tucked inside his duffel bag, but the machete hung limply in his good hand, ready to be used at a moment's notice. For the first time in a while, he allowed his body to relax. Gloria (Girl #22) posed no threat to him, and since the door to the room was effectively locked, he could allow the fatigue to wash over him for the time being. He would need his strength for later on.

"So how many of those girls did you kill?" Isaac asked.

Gloria wearily glanced over at him and wandered over, leaning against the wall and then sliding down it. She sighed and responded, "Only one."

"So you only have one death so far?" Isaac smirked playfully.

"I think that Cassie (Girl #4) counts as a kill for both of us, since it was a group effort. But even if we didn't count her, I killed someone else – I took the gun from her."

"So two?" Isaac asked looking at her.

"Looks like it." Gloria responded slightly annoyed.

"I've got three." He chuckled.

"Are you counting Cassie?"

"Why shouldn't I? I was the one who killed her."

"Even if you include her, I'm still better in comparison."

"What?"

"If you count her, then you've only got one more kill than I do. But, you've also got a fucked up hand, bruises all over your body, a numb groin, and you were weaponless. Meanwhile, I had two grenades, a machete, an Uzi, and I'm in a much better condition than you are. So I've clearly made up for that single kill that you're up by, since I'm already in the position to break your score and go beyond. Without me, your name was probably going to be read off during the next set of announcements."

They sat in silence for a minute, while Isaac took in everything his girlfriend had told him.

"But I still have one more kill than you."

Gloria groaned in frustration, "Cassie was just as much my kill as she was yours."

"Yeah, your slingshot clearly was on the verge of tossing some dirt into her eye so that her eyes watered up and she wandered out of the playing field. Good thing I saved us the trouble by stabbing her through the chest and into her neck."

"Fine, you get credit for Cassie's death, but I still beat you from all that other stuff I told you about already."

"What? All that weapon and condition shit? Just because you have all that doesn't put you in the lead. All it means is that your battles were easier."

"Are you fucking serious?" Gloria glared at him, "Easier?"

"From everything you've told me about your experience here so far, I'd say you've had it pretty easy."

"It wasn't easy!"

Bitterness quickly rose in Isaac's voice. He didn't look at her, but instead stared down at the floor in front of him.

"Right, being in a group with four other girls who were protecting you must have been difficult. And then there was your battle with them. Wait, that was just you throwing a grenade at them - I bet that was hard. And then there was that group that was trying to escape – more people protecting you, very difficult. And what happened? Gun shots were fired and you ran again. Is that were it got hard – all that running? Or was it everyone protecting you? Both sound so challenging."

"Fuck you!" Gloria pushed him and he nearly toppled over, "And I guess you've had it tougher?"

"You bet your ass I have. I've fought with the major contenders of this game, not the pussies who have been too scared to do anything. I fought that bastard who kicked our asses at the gas station. I took on the leaders of that gang that's always around our neighborhood. I fought with that tough bitch who's been studying how to fight for forever. And because of some fucking miracle, I'm alive."

"I fought her too. She nearly shot my head off with a shotgun."

"Well, she let me go. When we met, she wasn't playing. I'm surprised that someone would just change like that."

"Well, she did."

He finally gazed up and looked at her square in the eyes.

"Or you're lying."

"Fuck you!" Gloria said again and this time she did push him over. Isaac gingerly sat up as Gloria stood and walked away to the opposite side of the room. Isaac took a deep breath, and let himself calm down again. He hadn't meant to attack her like that. And Isaac didn't think that it was any macho thoughts trying to make himself better than Gloria. He'd been through so much already in The Program, and he didn't like Gloria downplaying his performance. He'd been lucky, sure, but he'd fought for his life on many occasions, and that earned him some kind of respect. Still, he didn't like starting fights with Gloria. It reminded him too much of his own parents. In fact, the last time he'd gotten angry with Gloria was the day he saw **him** again.

* * *

Isaac walked down the street, slowly drawing nearer to the meeting point. One of his suppliers had contacted him, told him that an old friend of his was breaking into the business. Normally Isaac and Gloria would have agreed not to include any newcomers into their ring of connections, but their supplier had insisted that he was a major success in other parts of the country, that their income would quadruple. The drug dealing couple agreed that they'd interview the new person, and then they'd decide. However, Gloria found herself unable to make the interview, since her parents had decided to ground her for sneaking out the previous night. At the risk of getting into even more trouble, Gloria told Isaac to hold the interview himself.

For some reason, he was feeling unusually pressured. He'd never even been in an interview of his own, never mind held one. What questions should he ask? How would he know if the guy was trustworthy and not some cop in disguise? The anxiety built up in his body as he entered the broken down building. He could hear them talking as he approached, and so he slowed down, listening to the conversation take place.

"Now, the kids are young, but don't let that fool you. They have connections to every kid who uses drugs in this entire city. If you want to get to them, you have to go through these kids."

"Okay."

"Now listen, I told them that you've been making a good profit in other parts of the country, so make sure you follow up with that. There's no reason for them to find out I was lying."

"I got it."

"And we're good after this? You forget about my debt?"

"As long as I get included in the circle, then it goes away. I told you that I'd forget it if you got me a job, not an interview."

Isaac had heard enough. Whoever this guy was, he was no dealer. He was probably just looking to make some money as the middle man, with no other connections. He was completely worthless, and there was no way Isaac was going to allow him to enter the drug ring. He kicked open the door, the best scowl he could make already on his face. Both men inside the room jumped at the sudden noise and stared over at the boy. It took him a moment, but Isaac slowly recognized the man on the opposite side of the room.

"Dad?"

The air was sucked from the room. For a minute, no one spoke at all as time stood still. Their common friend stared from one to the other before mumbling something and excusing himself to avoid the overwhelming atmosphere. The boy and the man stared at one another, almost stupefied by each other's presence.

"Isaac?"

The boy recoiled at the sound of his name, the word sounding so strange and familiar at the same time. His father took a few steps forward, but Isaac motioned away from him, making sure he did not get too close. At that moment, Isaac was not sure whether he would hug his father or punch him in the nose if he got too close.

A stern expression crossed the man's face as he placed a hand on his side and said, "Does your mother know you're doing this?"

Isaac grinded his teeth together as he hissed, "Don't talk to me like that."

"And why's that?" his father growled back.

"Because you're not my dad anymore."

Silence resumed and this time it was the man who recoiled from the spoken words.

"Isaac, I don't blame you if you hate me." the man spoke slowly, "But I've…been holding something for you for a little while now. I intended to go back to you a long time ago, and I wanted to give you this. I know that it doesn't make up for my mistakes, but I'd still like it if you had this."

"I don't want anything from you." Isaac spun around and attempted to leave.

"Wait, please!" Isaac stopped in his tracks. His father approached him from the back and stood directly behind him, pulling out his wallet.

"I know," he began, "That kids your age went nuts for these cards. I…came across this one. It's the rarest one, they say, worth thousands. I know you're too old for this now, but maybe you could pawn it…or something like that…"

Isaac sighed long and hard and spun around before grabbing the card before marching toward the door. But even as he pulled open the door, a part of him cried out silently. It wished and prayed that his father would stop him, would come back home, would be a part of his life again.

_He's going to let me leave. He's going to abandon me again._

Isaac stormed out of the building, pulling the trading card from his hand and staring at it. He remembered how much he would have given to have this card a few years back. But now he wanted nothing more than to get rid of it. He hissed with rage as he ripped the small card into dozens of pieces before throwing them into the air and watching the wind scatter them into the atmosphere. He watched them float around him for a minute before slowly making his way back to his home. A single tear streaked its way down his face and he began sprinting, trying to make his way into the safety of his house before anyone could see that the poor boy was crying.

* * *

Isaac glanced over at Gloria, who fumed over on her side of the room. He'd really upset her. He remembered that whenever his parents would fight they'd leave each other alone completely. And while it gave them each time to calm down, nothing ever become resolved, and the same problems rose time after time. He sighed and stood from where he sat. He moved across the room and took a seat next to Gloria. She blatantly ignored him, but she made no effort to move.

"I'm sorry." He murmured. Gloria turned toward him but didn't say anything. She merely nodded and returned her gaze elsewhere. But slowly her body swayed, and soon she was leaning up against him, feeling safer from the contact. Isaac swung his arm around her and pulled her closer.

The pair sat that way for an hour.

* * *

"So, do you have any brothers or sisters?" Connor (Boy #4) asked as he maneuvered around a low hanging tree branch. He held the branch to the side so that his companion could follow behind and she did so.

"Why do you insist we keep making small talk?" Leslie (Girl #25) asked with a sigh. She widened her stride a little until she was walking directly next to Connor.

"I'd just to like to learn a little more about my ally, that's all." Connor replied, "All I really know about you is that you have kickass martial arts training. And your name, Joan."

"My name's Leslie." She replied.

"I know," Connor replied with a grimace, "That was a joke."

"It was very good."

They continued walking together, the silence settling on the both of them.

"I don't have any brothers or sisters."

"An only child?" Connor said, "You don't fit the profile in my opinion. Usually only children have only a sense of self, and are usually selfish, arrogant, and not as independent as those kids who have to shoulder the burden of raising brothers and sisters."

"All generalizations are wrong."

Connor didn't say anything in response.

"That was a joke." She said.

"Huh?"

Leslie sighed, "I said, 'All generalizations are wrong.' But that statement itself is a generalization, making it false also."

"Oh, I get it." Connor said, "That was very good."

"Whatever."

"So your parents didn't want any more kids, huh? One was enough for them?"

Leslie paused in her stride and Connor stopped suddenly as well, glancing back at his companion. He stared confusedly at her as she continued to stare at the ground.

"My parents are dead."

Connor's mouth dropped slightly and he winced. He didn't have any intention to hurt Leslie with his questions, but clearly his inquisition had brought up some old memories she had rather forgotten.

"I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I know," Connor said and he walked back up to Leslie, "But losing your parents must have been really hard. And I'm sure that whatever accident happened-"

"There was no accident." Her eyes had become especially cold again.

"Sickness-"

"My parents," she stared up at him with the deadest eyes he'd ever seen, "were murdered."

Connor's mouth dropped and he heard himself gasp as Leslie glanced beyond him and continued walking. It took a moment for him to regain himself and he jogged to Leslie's side, doing his best to keep up with her long, powerful strides. He didn't say anything, and for the first time in The Program, he didn't need to.

"I found my parents the morning after they were murdered. Someone had snuck into the room and slit both their throats during the night. Some things were missing, but since both of my parents were still in bed when they were killed, robbery was ruled out. Someone had come to our house that night to specifically kill them and had taken some things to throw suspicion off of murder. I…I remember finding them in their bed, seeing first the red sheets and then crawling to where they lay and seeing their wide open bulging eyes. And their wide open necks."

Connor stared at her in disbelief as she continued with her memories.

"The police placed me in the care of my father's brother while the investigation continued. He…was terrible…"

* * *

A young Leslie lay curled up in the corner of a tiny room. She cried to herself, glancing around her at the unfamiliar territory. The bed and the toys were hers, but the room was not. It was foreign and scary, and she wanted to go home.

"Mommy. Daddy." The small girl cried into her knees until the familiar sound of the front door opened and closed. She raised her head up as heavy footsteps marched down the hallway and paused at her doorway. The door flung open and he stood there, a nearly empty whiskey bottle in his hand.

"You're not crying again, are you?" her uncle slurred and he took a few steps toward her.

"No." Leslie uttered and subtly tried to wipe the tears from her face.

"Don't lie to me!" her uncle swung outward and slammed the glass bottle into the side of her head. She cried out and fell to her side to the floor. "Only WEAK people cry!" He swung at her again with the bottle but missed this time. He swayed and eventually toppled to the floor. Leslie tried to hold the tears back, but the pain throbbed in her head as a drop of blood slid down her face and mixed with her tears.

"Don't cry!" he screeched from the floor and swung his leg out, kicking the small girl in the gut. The air rushed from her body and Leslie's uncle slowly stood up, towering over the girl. "I agreed to keep you in my house, but only if you're strong! Strong people do not get scared! They do not cry! If you continue to be weak, then I'll throw you out on the street. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Leslie whimpered.

"STOP CRYING!" The bottle sailed over her head and crashed against the wall behind her. She winced, but she quickly wiped the tears from her face and stared at her uncle, giving the most apathetic glare she could muster. Her lip quivered, but she bit it so that he would not notice. She bit it so hard that blood poured into her mouth, but she made no movement, staring up at her uncle with absolutely no emotional response.

"Good girl." He slurred before stumbling over to the doorway. Leslie watched him go, the cold stare covering her young face.

_I need to be stronger. I need to get stronger than him, so that I can leave here. I need to get STRONGER!_

* * *

"I learned what it meant to be strong from him." Leslie stared straight ahead as Connor remained enraptured with her story, "I joined martial arts shortly after that without my uncle knowing, as a way to make my body stronger. It helped me learn to dodge blows and how to take impacts, so that when he came home drunk, like he did most nights, I would be able to minimize bruises. There were a few incidents were he'd be so drunk that he'd beat me so bad I'd cry and scream so that the neighbors called the police. They all knew what was going on, but nothing was ever done to stop it. I had to rely on myself to become stronger. Strong enough to control my emotions so that my uncle would not see me as weak and try to hurt me. Strong enough to tone my body and get it in good shape so that I could protect myself. Strong enough so that I wouldn't let anything hurt me ever again."

"Leslie-"

"I'm strong now." She stopped and glanced aside at him, who also stopped mid-stride. She stared deep into his eyes with those dead eyes of her own, the ones that showed no emotion at all, the ones she had mastered after numerous beatings from her uncle. But even as Connor stared into them, he saw the faintest flicker of something deep inside her, something she hid away even further than her emotions.

_Pain._

"Doesn't it hurt?" Connor asked her, "Hiding from everything? Keeping everything locked inside – doesn't that hurt you?"

Leslie scowled slightly and some indignation returned to her eyes, "I'm not hiding from anything. My emotions will only get in my way. All that matters is strength – the strong live and the weak die. And I refuse to die."

"You know, Leslie," Connor began walking, which slightly surprised the girl, but she caught up to him in a few steps. "I can't help but feel…what you just said about the strong and the weak…isn't that what The Program is based on?"

Leslie couldn't conceal the gasp that escaped her lips but she shook it away as Connor said, "In this game, the strong live and the weak die, or so we're told. Is that truly what you believe in?"

The words of Leslie's martial arts teacher returned to her at that moment.

"_Do you understand that strength is more than just being able to fight? That there is more to strength than physical prowess?"_

The words raced through her head and she repeated them to herself.

_Back then, I was still learning to control my emotions, especially my anger. I thought he was telling me that emotional domination added to my strength. I learned to control rage the hard way…But could it be that he meant something completely different? If strength doesn't come from control, then where does it come from?_

"I don't know what I believe anymore." Leslie stared down at the ground, feeling doubt creep into her mind for the first time in a very long time.

"That's okay."

Her head snapped up as Connor placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and smiled warmly at her.

"We can find out together."

Leslie reached up to his hand on her shoulder and removed it slowly, lingering the very slightest while her hand held his before releasing all together. She made no indication that she cared whether or not Connor stayed with her, but the emotion of happiness slowly crept its way into her eyes, and her companion took notice.

"_We can find out together."_

* * *

Jeff (Boy #22) sat with his back against a tree, staring up at the sun shining through the cracks made by the leaves. He sighed, taking in the warm atmosphere, thinking that in any other place, he'd be content with such a pleasant day. The weather was not too warm and the air was not too humid. There was no noise except for the wind whispering through the trees. It was completely tranquil, and Jeff let the serenity wash over him. He hadn't slept in a long time, but he hadn't yet felt the tug of fatigue on his brain yet. He knew he'd need to rest at some point, but it would wait until he found the correct place to do so.

_I'm sure if I allowed myself to, I'd be able to fall asleep right here and now._

_But that's a really stupid decision. There's no guarantee that someone won't find me here._

_I wonder how many people are still left in the playing field._

_The explosion we heard a few hours ago must have taken someone with it. That's at least one less person who won't feel my pain._

_It's weird, since I've started playing, I've expected that the suffering of others would relieve my own. And to some degree, it does, but only in the process of the act. Right now, my pain is as prominent as ever. In fact, I wonder…if it's getting worse._

_Worse? That's ridiculous. The whole point I'm doing this is so that my pain will go away, not get stronger._

_But I feel it. I feel…like I'm only making the wound worse._

Jeff's hand moved up to his partially revealed chest. His shirt was still wrapped around his upper torso from the stab wound to his shoulder blade, but enough was revealed so that the bottom half of the scar could be seen. He gingerly touched to theplace where the flesh had been ripped from his body. He could still feel the metal blade cutting deeply into his chest, the blood quickly running down his body.

_Why does the stab still remain in my chest long after the knife is gone?_

He sighed again, slowly closing his eyes and then reopening them. The sun disappeared behind a cloud and the rays of light stopped filtering between the leaves. For the first time since the beginning of The Program, Jeff felt completely and utterly alone. He curled into a little ball, feeling the loneliness slice deep into his chest. He gasped for air once, and a tear slid down his face.

_I…I wish Bruce_ (Boy #23)_ was here._

_Forget about him! Ever since he came into my life, I've forgotten all those lessons I learned beforehand. Have I forgotten why I don't trust anyone? Have I forgotten why I keep all my thoughts to myself? Why I should be alone?_

The malicious laughter of children rang in his ears, as if from nowhere. He covered them with hands to block out the sounds, but they were coming from inside his head, bouncing off the walls of his cranium, echoing into every crevice of his brain. His chest throbbed with the pain of the knife that was slowly twisting inside his body.

_I hate being alone._

_But I'm safe when I'm alone, aren't I? They can't hurt me if they don't know me. They can't add to my pain. Not anymore._

Jeff wiped away the tear. Memories flooded back to him – memories he'd attempted to forget a long time ago. He could see their awful laughing faces, hear their taunting remarks. A righteous fury swept through his body, the rage tensing his muscles and his teeth gritting inside his mouth.

_Even Bruce would hurt me if he knew what I was thinking. They're all the same – they all want to hurt me!_

_No, not everyone would hurt me._

_Even if they didn't hurt me, they'd allow me to get hurt. Just like last time. Even my family…No one deserves to get away! They caused my pain, they deserve to FEEL IT!_

No longer able to contain his brimming fury, Jeff began to scream, slowly letting his voice get louder and louder as more anger bubbled over. His scar burned in his chest and slowly the inhuman yell echoed throughout the playing field, chilling every contestant who heard it.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 41, 48, 50, 56, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 5, 34

(18) Contestants remaining


	42. Air and Fire

Slowly, she emerged from the forest. She was drenched in blood, but only a fraction of it was hers. In one hand she held a powerful shotgun and in the other was a large katana. Blood dripped off the large blade and onto the ground before her. She expertly swiped at the air before her, effectively sending off excess blood from the sharp weapon. She glanced up at the school building before her without fear. Her collar had been deactivated a little while ago, right after she had killed the only other contestant in the playing field.

She'd had her share of difficult battles, but she'd always found some way of coming out on top. That brainy bitch had been tricky, but she'd seen right through the trap and killed her. And she'd faced off against both of those contestants with martial arts backgrounds and defeated both of them. And then there was that boy with the scythe. She could still hear his screams, pleading her to stop the pain. But she'd prolonged his death, dragging it out with each slice of her katana.

She'd defeated them all, and with each new kill her power had increased. She'd held their lives in her hands, stolen their power, and then killed them. She'd shown no mercy or compassion and she was stronger for it. It had taken her too long to realize what this game was all about. It was all about power – those with the power were the ones who survived. And now all the power was hers.

Dozens of soldiers flooded from the school building and stood at attention as Mr. Smith finally appeared in the doorway. He smiled over at her and she smiled back, letting the shotgun and the katana fall to the ground. She carefully walked forward and when she was only a few feet away from the school building every soldier before her clicked their heels to attention and saluted the victor of The Program.

"Congratulations, my dear." Mr. Smith cooed as he stepped forward with a tiny handheld device. He aimed it at her and with two quick beeps the collar unhooked itself and fell to the ground. She reached up to her neck and rubbed the soreness out of her muscle joints where the uncomfortable metal addition had been.

"You have won The Program, and in record time too." Mr. Smith backed off a step and saluted the girl as well. And slowly things were falling into place. The Program was only her first step. She'd proven that she was more powerful than anyone else in her class, and this would jumpstart her political career. After all, who would be a better candidate than someone who killed in the name of her country? She could see herself easily climbing through the ranks, maybe running The Program once or twice herself, until she finally made it up to Dictator.

She stared at the many men who stood at attention before her, and as she closed her eyes, she could see the entire country standing the same way, bowing down to her power. The first female Dictator – Girl #5 Luna.

* * *

Luna returned to reality in an instant and shook her head. There was still a lot to do before she reached that point, but for the first time in a while, she truly believed that was how it would end. She cautiously peered around the corner of an abandoned house. She pressed the button on her taser to make sure it still worked, and the device sprang to life, shaking in her hand as the voltage coursed into the open air. The sound of her weapon calmed the girl slightly, but she paused for a moment, making sure that no one else had heard the noise. She reached into her open duffel bag and pulled the watch from the corner next to some water bottles. She checked the time, making a mental note that area 34 had just gone danger zone, but that a good majority of this suburban area was still safe to move around in.

She put the watch away and activated her taser again. Luna peered around, seeing no one, and finally ventured forward into the open space. She didn't know if there were many contestants hidden in these houses, but it was a safe bet that there was at least one nearby. People looked for shelter when it got dark out, but now that the sun was in the sky, it was a possibility that they had moved on. But Luna was still hopeful. She wasn't confident in her fighting abilities or her skills in making people trust her, but she could definitely see herself successfully sneaking up on someone and with a quick jolt of her taser, she'd have the time to take their superior weaponry.

A warm breeze drifted by her and blew her hair off to the side as she continued forward. Some strands made their way into her face and she brushed them aside with her free hand. She raised her hand to brush away more hair from her peripheral vision, but paused, noticing that there was nothing obstructing her eye. She'd spotted something instead. Luna slowly turned to view the object.

He was large, and sprawled out on the ground a short distance away. As she slowly approached the body, the realization finally hit her whom she was looking at. His massive shield was placed on top of his upper body, concealing his face and upper torso, but she could see the wounds to both of his ankles and the very apparent bullet hole in his visible shoulder. The wounded shoulder linked to a hand that desperately clutched his duffel bag. Sid (Boy #14) lay at her feet.

Luna's breath caught in her throat as she stared down at the boy on the ground before her. She watched him intently, checking to see if he was breathing, but the shield covered too much of his chest for her to see properly. Her mind raced back to the most recent set of announcements, but she couldn't remember if Sid's name had been read off. After a moment, she was sure that his death had not been announced and a sense of anxiety enveloped the girl. Still, two hours had passed since then, and death was only a moment, which could occur at any time.

Her initial reaction was to run off, but something was keeping her in that place. Her eyes settled on the shield that covered the boy's body and the many holes that riddled what had been a smooth side of the barrier.

_It stops bullets._

The large hunk of metal was no doubt heavy, but the evidence was right there in front of her – it could protect her from the people carrying the guns. Her eyes moved to the hand that clutched the duffel bag. Luna glanced inside her own bag that hung around her shoulder and saw that she was very low of food. That petite girl from whom she had stolen the duffel bag must have gorged herself on the food because Luna had only had a sandwich and there was only one more left. Sid was a big guy, but he must have had some food left.

With a deep breath, Luna carefully fell to her knees. She reached out toward the duffel bag, but then froze, retracting her hand. If she grabbed the shield first, she'd be able to see Sid's face and ensure the fact that he was dead. However, glancing at the large metal barrier, she could see no convenient way of removing it off Sid's body without making herself vulnerable. There were other ways of checking to see if he was dead.

She knew that there was some kind of artery or something in the neck – she'd seen plenty of television shows where a pulse was taken there. All she'd need to do is quickly check his pulse and if he was still alive, then she'd go from there. From the look of his battered body and the wounds that were visible to her, it appeared that Sid would be less of a threat than he had been. Maybe she'd be able to finish him off with her taser.

Luna squatted down very far so that she could see the gladiator's muscular neck. Slowly she reached her hand out, feeling a sense of dread fill her body. She looked for any signs of life – if he was breathing, if he was moving – but she couldn't see any. She'd quickly check the pulse and that would be it. Slowly her hand reached his smooth neck and she compressed slightly. Her mouth dropped as the blood pumped against her fingers. Sid was still alive.

Without warning, Sid gave out a war cry and rolled onto his side causing Luna to jump back in fear. She scrambled to her feet but Sid had been slowly gathering his strength for a surprise attack as soon as he'd heard that first crack of the taser. He'd had no idea that it was Luna that had fallen into his feigned appearance, but that just made things all the sweeter. Sid reached out with his good arm and lifted body off the ground far enough to wrapped his limb around her waist and drag her to the ground.

With a scream, Luna pushed the button on the side of the taser with all her might and jabbed it into Sid's side. The electricity jolted through the giant's body and he cried out in surprise, his grip on the girl loosening. Luna grunted as she pulled in one of her legs and then pushed it out, connecting with Sid's face. The boy cried out in pain as blood immediately ran out of his nose and his eyes watered over. Luna jolted him again for good measure and then spun around, running away from her attacker.

Through the tears that blinded him, Sid watched the girl whom he believed to have murdered his girlfriend escaping from him yet again. His good arm reached down to the shield and he gripped the edge. His hands slipped on the smooth edge the first time, but he got a firm grip the second and summoning all the strength he had left, he heaved the shield out at Luna, watching it spin like a frisbee.

The shield spun round and round in the air. Sid had intended for the spinning object to connect with Luna's knees so that she could not run away, but slowly one side dipped and the object swung up. Luna turned her head behind her just in time for the shield to connect with her face. The sudden strike to her face knocked her to the ground and blood poured from a wound directly beneath her eye.

Sid tried to coordinate his legs to push him forward, but they both refused to function, so the large boy had to rely on his arms. He winced from the bullet wound to his arm, but he pushed through the pain as he slowly approached the grounded girl. Luna continued to moan on the ground as the world spun around her, but slowly the reality swept back to her. Her eyes widened in fear as she desperately tried to get up, but it was too late. Sid was already upon her.

The giant crawled on top of the girl, using his bulk to pin her to the ground. His massive hands reached forward and wrapped themselves around her vulnerable neck, effectively squeezing the air from her body. Luna's legs thrashed as she tried to kick the boy away, but there was nothing she could do to throw his body off of her. She clicked the taser to life once again, and jabbed it into Sid's side. However, despite the voltage that ran through his body, Sid did not let go of the girl's throat. A small wisp of smoke slowly rose from the point of impact as the electricity slowly burned at the boy's flesh, but Sid did not let up.

Luna kept the pressure on the taser button constant, but Sid's weight down on her and his massive hands around her neck made her feel like her head was about to explode. She tried her best to open her airways, but no matter how many times she tried to inhale, she was always denied.

_No, this can't be right! I'm supposed to have all the power, not him! I WANT THE POWER!_

But she could slowly feel her power slipping away. Her head swam in confusion as the lack of oxygen began to truly affect her. She could sense the power in her body building in her neck, trying to force away Sid's hands and allow air to enter her body. But Luna's power was being sucked up by Sid's presence, and the longer he kept oxygen away, the more power he stole. Slowly her thrashing stopped, no longer able to find the power inside her to keep fighting. The pressure on the taser eased as well.

_No, the power is supposed to be mine. Give it back…_

Sid held his hands there for another minute, just to make sure she was dead. Then he slowly peeled his hands away from her neck, and stretched the cramps out of his fingers. He saw the bruises his hands had left on her neck, but he could care less about those. He carefully lifted himself off the corpse and rolled over onto his back, feeling the pain shoot through his arm and legs again. However, Sid did not acknowledge the pain. Instead, a satisfied smile crossed his face, and he nearly laughed when the realization finally reached his brain.

_I got her. I finally got her Janelle_ (Girl #10).

Sid tenderly touched his side where the burned flesh still seemed to smoke from the damage of the taser. The euphoria from the very satisfying kill eventually wore off and slowly his brain clicked back into battle mode. He'd been lucky that Luna had been drawn to the duffel bag he had clutched in his hand, but other contestants would not be so curious. Sid gazed over and saw that the girl still had the taser tightly grasped in her hand. It wasn't the best weapon in the world, but maybe it would draw over someone who was looking to be greedy and take any weapons they could find from corpses. Or what they thought was a corpse.

With little difficulty Sid pried the taser from Luna's already cold dead hand and gripped it in his own. He slowly dragged his large heavy body over to where his shield remained on the ground a few feet away. He carefully picked it up and slid it over his body just like it had been earlier. He left his uninjured arm out in the open clutching the taser. Carefully and with much pain, Sid maneuvered his legs into some awkward position to make it appear that he had collapsed in a dead heap. He gritted his teeth as he moved his damaged legs but then released as the pain subsided. A bead of sweat rolled down off his forehead and onto the dirt around him. He took one last long breath before reducing his breathing rate and volume. He had no idea when someone else would come across him, and he'd need to look as convincing as possible.

He allowed his body to relax and the warrior lied in wait for his next victim.

* * *

No matter how hard she tried, Kim (Girl #17) could not remove the image from her mind. In her mind, she watched herself slowly approach the house, carefully making sure that no one nearby spotted her while she was temporarily out in the open. She took another step forward and suddenly the world erupted all around her. The house seemed to implode on itself first, shrinking in size before expanding explosively. The force rushed at her like a station wagon and knocked her off her feet as fire rushed all around her.

Kim sighed from where she sat beneath one of the many trees in the vast forest region of the playing field. She took a sip from her wattle bottle, doing her best not to waste it since she only had one more left. She stared down at the water as it swished back and forth inside the clear plastic bottle.

_Water…water and fire…_

* * *

An eight year old Kim watched from a safe distance as the black smoke continued to rise up into the night sky, mixing with the clouds and blocking out the crescent moon. However, the moon was not needed as a light source at that moment, since there was another.

Her home was completely set ablaze, the flames stretching up from the open windows attempting to consume the roof with its destructive nature. Kim watched in both horror and awe as the fire slowly consumed every possession the young girl had ever had. Hoses snaked their way all over her lawn and led straight up to her home where several firefighters sprayed the house and attempted to impede the progression of the fire. The roof finally caught fire and embers slowly rose into the air like fireflies that danced in the night sky.

And then the realization finally hit her. As Kim watched her home burn to the ground, she searched for security. Security in the form of her mother, the only other family member who was in the house that night. That was when Kim realized that she did not see her mother. That she may have still been inside the burning house.

"Mommy!" the girl shrieked and rushed forward a couple steps before a firefighter stooped down and picked her up, leading her away from the house.

"You can't go back in there." He told her in a harsh tone.

"My mommy's in there!" Kim struggled against the man, but he held on tight and soon she gave up. Tears formed in her eyes as a section of the house collapsed in flame. A powerful emotion suddenly overcame the small girl. It wasn't anger or resentment, and it wasn't fear or depression. It started in her heart and slowly raced to her every limb and up to her brain.

She felt…helpless.

All she could do was watch her home slowly burn away and her mother along with it. She whimpered and the uncontrollable tears raced down her face. A loud cracking sound caught her attention and her head snapped up as a figure suddenly appeared through the fire. The flames licked at the figure but they did not cower before them. It walked forward and emerged from the house, carrying what looked like a sack over its shoulder.

Several firefighters rushed over to the one who had just emerged and help carry the sack over to a gurney. It took Kim a moment to realize that the sack was her mother still dressed in her nightgown. She squirmed in the man's arms and he saw no harm in releasing her, so he placed Kim on the ground. The young girl rushed to her mother's side, and while there was soot covering her face, there were very few bad burns.

Kim glanced up at the firefighter who had saved her mother's life as tears of joy flushed away her feeling of helplessness.

"Thanks, mister." She smiled.

The firefighter chucked slightly and then replied in a feminine voice, "Sure thing, kid."

Kim's mouth dropped as the woman walked over to the hoses and helped support the intense water pressure. She'd never seen a female firefighter, although she knew they existed. She glanced over at the heroine who had overcome Kim's helplessness and saved another's life. It was at that point that the young girl promised herself that she'd never ever be helpless again.

Another loud crack sounded from the collapsing home and Kim glanced over, spotting another figure in the fire. His flesh dripped off his burning figure. Blood poured from the many burns that damaged his body straight to the bone. The hair atop his head was engulfed in flame, but he paid no attention to it, instead slowly making his way out of the flames that was slowly and painfully ending his life. He did his best to smile, but his lips had long been burned from his face and he appeared to bearing his teeth as the fire continued to consume him. Slowly he held up his hand that contained a heart shaped diamond.

"Carmen." Carlos (Boy #3) whispered.

* * *

Kim shook her head, removing the image from her mind. No, that wasn't how it happened. Her mother had been saved. She'd recovered in the hospital for the next week, but was otherwise fine. Carlos had not been there. No, he'd been in the other burning house.

She closed her eyes, trying to get her mind off of fire, but she saw him standing before her, the flash dangling from his face as he stared down at her, holding out that necklace to her. And then the two nails shot out, one in the chest and the other placed into his forehead. She watched him jolt and fall to the ground.

A cold shiver swept over her body and goose bumps rose on her skin. She rubbed her arms with her hands to warm them and focused on the bright sun shining down through the leaves. It shone partly on her legs and chest and she allowed the warmth to spread through her body and push her memories away from her. She'd been roaming for a long time now, and there were still plenty of threats out there that needed to be taken care of.

She sighed and stood up from her resting spot. She pulled the map from her duffel bag and glanced at her current location. She guessed that she was in block 26, directly north of the most recent danger zone. She'd checked the southwestern part of the playing field in couple hours before, and there was a good portion of woods for her to search towards the center of the map. But she decided that she was sick of trees for the moment. The beach had been a nice break from the suffocating forest, but it left her wide out in the open. Maybe it was about time she headed back to the urban district. If she was lucky, maybe she'd run into Naomi (Girl #11) and April (Girl #15) and see how they were doing. Their names had not been read off yet, which meant that they were still safe, assuming they had not died since the last set of announcements.

Slowly she headed north. The more she thought about her friends, the more she missed them. True, she'd never meet up with them and hide again – that would only make her feel helpless. And she didn't want to bring them along since she didn't want to place them in danger and have to worry about their well being in the middle of battle. Still, seeing them again sounded just like the boost Kim needed to continue her quest. She guessed that they were still in the urban district, and that was where she'd look.

As she continued north, sounds slowly reached her ears. She wasn't sure what the noises were at first, but soon it became quite clear to her what she was hearing.

_Voices._

Instantly jumping into battle mode, the girl slowed her pace, taking quieter steps. She crept forward, moving in the direction of the voices. As far as she could tell, it sounded like two females talking, but she wasn't completely sure yet. The bushes shielded any view she might have had, and this inconvenience forced her to move onward, closer.

They appeared in sight almost immediately. Kim watched as they casually chatted together, talking slowly but genially. She recognized one of them immediately – it was Kara (Girl #24), whom she had seen earlier in the game. The other girl Kim didn't recognize, but she assumed it was one of her friends. And while neither of them seemed to pose any threat to her, Kim decided it was best for everyone if she just continued on her own, without them ever knowing she had found them. Though she hoped they'd realize how loud they were talking and quiet down.

Slowly she made her way toward the city portion of the playing field.

* * *

"Did you hear something?" Molly (Girl #9) remarked as she glanced around them. Both girls were silent for what seemed like an eternity, but five minutes passed and nothing happened.

"I didn't hear anything." Kara whispered, "But we should probably keep our voices down from now on."

Molly nodded in agreement and silence settled over the two girls. Kara stared down at the ground, apparently lost in thought for the moment. Meanwhile, Molly continued to gaze out at their surroundings, still not convinced that they were completely alone. However, another five minutes passed with still no more sound and so Molly shrugged it off with some hesitation.

"So what were we talking about?" Kara asked, returning to reality.

"Just that time when we went to see that movie and there was those kids that started to start some trouble with Derek (Boy #2)." Molly replied with a sudden sadness in her eyes.

"Yeah, all it took was for one of them to push Derek and Bruce (Boy #23) jumped right in the middle and kicked the shit out of them." Kara remarked with a slight smile.

"He wasn't the only one fighting though." Molly said glancing at Kara, "Don't you remember? Jeff (Boy #22) jumped in there too."

"Oh yeah!" Kara said with enthusiasm and then lowered her voice again, "I forgot about that. But I remember being amazed as to how well Jeff handled himself. He was so quick, I almost didn't see him attack that kid who pulled out that pocket knife. And he almost seemed to be jumping all over the place."

"I remember that too. We all knew Bruce could fight, but all of a sudden Jeff's in there too, bending over backwards to avoid kicks. And you remember when he did that flip in the air?" Molly gazed off into space, watching her friend performing amazing stunts in front of her mind's eye.

"You'd never expect him to be so limber and athletic. And he never explained where he learned to do all that too. He said he'd never taken self defense." Kara recalled.

"He didn't look like he was fighting though. He was just using his speed and agility to avoid attacks and then make one of his own. It didn't look like he'd had any instruction. In fact, he reminded me of those superheroes that used to be on television when we were little. You remember? Those government appointed people that had special fighting abilities and fought off terrorists? What were they called again?"

"The Patriot Rangers." Molly rolled her eyes, "Even then our government was filling our young minds with propaganda."

"But we enjoyed the show, or at least I did." Kara said with a smile, "I'd watch it all the time with my brother Tony."

Silence settled over the girls again. Both found themselves lost in memories of when they were little. The simple everyday activities that they took so much joy in. Baking cookies with their mothers. Drawing with crayons. Things that they'd most likely never be able to do again.

"Jeff's still out there, you know." Kara broke the silence, "Maybe we'll find him soon. And Bruce too."

Molly smiled, "Don't pretend with me, girl. We both know that Bruce is who you really want to see."

Kara blushed slightly, and turned her face away. She was about to say something, when Molly cut her off.

"Both of them are still out there. But they're the only ones left. Genevive (Girl #21), Justin (Boy #18), and Derek are all gone. We're never going to see them again."

Kara glanced down at the ground again, the memories of Justin flooding back to her. She sighed and glanced over at Molly, to see the tears streaming down her face. Kara nudged a little closer and wrapped an arm around her friend. Molly began crying a little louder and Kara did her best not to hush the girl, even though she could be attracting attention to their location.

"I'm never going to see him again." Molly wept into her hands and suddenly Kara understood. Derek and Molly had dated very briefly, and while it ended shortly after that, the both of them remained undeniably close. Molly normally didn't talk about the relationship very often, but from what Kara could tell, it had been Derek who had ended it.

"I kept telling myself that I needed to find everyone, but in the back of my mind he was the one I really wanted to find. I tried to deny how I felt about him, but when I heard his name read over the speakers, I couldn't believe it. He was my best friend."

Kara turned her body and embraced Molly, allowing her friend to lean forward and cry onto Kara's shoulder. The crying didn't last very long; it was more likely something that Molly had been carrying around with her ever since the initial shock had occurred. But as Kara sat there, comforting her friend, she could not help the thoughts running through her mind.

_Please God, don't let it turn out this way for me. Let me find Bruce. Please, let me see Bruce, just one last time._

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 48, 50, 56, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 5

(17) Contestants remaining


	43. No One Escapes The Program

April (Girl #15) glanced down at her watch, and then over to the map she had pulled from her duffel bag. It was after eight in the morning, which meant that block 34 had already become a danger zone. And the next block to become forbidden was block 5 up on the top row of areas of the playing field. To the best of her knowledge, April guessed that that was where she and her friend Naomi (Girl #11) were located. In less than two hours they'd have to move from that spot or else they'd die. The bombs located in the collars that wrapped themselves around the contestants' necks ensured this fact.

The girl sighed and slid both objects back into her bag next to the boomerang given to her by Kim (Girl #17) and the duct tape that she had been assigned at the very beginning of the game. She gazed over at her companion, whose eyes were glued to the ground directly beneath her. Silence had conquered both girls for a substantial amount of time, since neither had spoken for a while. Ever since Naomi had voiced her utter and complete hopelessness of the situation, she'd remained exactly where she was, staring off into space, lost inside her mind. April hated to admit it, but The Program had broken Naomi. She was no longer the strong, capable, competent friend April knew. Instead she was a shell of a human being, already prepared for the death that would most likely consume her.

But in the face of terrible odds, April still had her faith. She wasn't exactly sure what she expected to happen, since it didn't seem likely that the collars were coming off on their own, and then some handsome guy would whisk her away to safety. No, everything did seem hopeless, but that didn't mean that everything was hopeless. Somewhere deep inside the recesses of her brain, April's hope clawed at her spirit, telling her not to give up.

"We should leave soon." April spoke and then cleared her throat from the lack of use, "This area's going to be a danger zone in a couple of hours."

Naomi didn't react at all. April wondered if her friend was completely lost to her, but slowly the girl's head lifted as if to acknowledge April's presence. "What does it matter? We're going to die soon anyways."

April expected Naomi to say something to that effect. She felt herself torn into several parts in that moment. She was angry that she was doing everything she could to keep the both of them alive and away from danger, but Naomi's ungrateful and depressing attitude was doing nothing to help at all. She was distressed that Naomi was still as hopeless as ever, since it seemed that nothing would save the girl from herself. She was scared that someone would find them soon (since Naomi didn't appear to be checking her collar detector very often), and that would be the end of the two of them. And she was frustrated that despite April's loyalty to Naomi, her friend showed none in return. And then a part of her wanted to just leave Naomi behind, to the death she was so convinced awaited her. Or worse, be the one to give it to her…

April shook her head, almost shocked the thought had entered her mind at all. She pushed it away, now angry at herself for allowing The Program to get inside her head, even for that moment. She took a deep breath, allowing the fresh air to clean out any other evil thoughts floating around inside her mind.

"Even if that was true, which it's not," April walked over to Naomi's side, "I'm not going to let a bomb be the thing to kill me. I'm going to fight for my life, not give it to anyone who's looking to take it. And neither are you!"

April reached down and hooked both hands beneath Naomi's arm and tried to lift her off the ground. However, Naomi remained rooted in place like the cement ground had attached itself to the girl and refused to let go. April released for a moment, and then summoned more strength and tried again, but remained just as unsuccessful.

"I'd rather have a bomb go off around my neck and be dead before I even knew it happened than to have someone take their time cutting me open so that I can bleed to death or slowly get strangled." Naomi replied softly. April dropped the girl's arm and backed off a few steps. No longer ableto take Naomi's words, she bent before the girl, staring at the girl deep in the eyes. She waited for Naomi to return the glare, and as soon as that happened, April reeled back at slapped Naomi straight across the face.

"WAKE UP!" April screamed in Naomi's face. Naomi didn't even whimper as the stinging sensation rushed through her face. She barely batted an eye as April screeched at her directly in the face. And it was at that point that April realized it was too late to save Naomi. Tears made their way down her face as she stared at Naomi's vacant expression and her empty eyes. There was nothing in the world that was going to raise Naomi to her feet, and if April continued to sit there, she'd die too.

"I've done all I can for you, Naomi." April said as she choked back sobs and reached out. She opened Naomi's duffel bag and saw that most of her water was still left, as were two sandwiches. April took all of Naomi's rations, knowing that the girl would not need them in two hours time. Then her hand reached out and took the girl's collar detector from her hand that did not attempt to hold on. April slipped the device into her pocket and then gazed back at Naomi's face that was once again focused on the ground. A red mark in the shape of a hand embedded itself on Naomi's cheek, but she did not seem to notice it.

"I'm going to miss you, Naomi." April replied, no longer able to hold in her tears. She reached forward and clutched Naomi to her, giving her one last hug. April felt nothing in return, but she held on anyways, allowing her tears to fall to the ground. With a tighter squeeze, April let go and stood up. Naomi didn't budge from her spot on the ground.

"Goodbye." April said, wiping away a tear and walked toward the edge of the alley. In an effort to comfort herself, her mind returned to that karaoke night. The words of Gloria Gaynor drifted through her mind as she hummed the tune to "I Will Survive" out loud. Surprisingly enough, the song did make her feel slightly more secure, since this was going to be the first time she'd be on her own since the very beginning of The Program.

April emerged from her hiding place, and decided that it would be best to see if anyone was in the area. She pulled the collar device from her pocket and her mouth dropped when she saw two additional dots besides hers and Naomi's. A loud rattling noise erupted to her left, and it took a moment for the pain to register. She jolted a few times and then dropped to the ground. Confusedly, her eyes went down to her body and saw the many tiny holes that had punctured her side. Blood oozed out of all of them and ran to the ground, soaking her legs in her own crimson liquid. Finally raising her eyes, April noticed the two people standing only a few feet away from her. One she had not seen yet in The Program, but the other was a face she recognized all too well.

Gloria (Girl #22) smirked maliciously as she slowly approached the injured girl. The resentment slowly rose in her body, and April reached inside her bag and produced the boomerang, preparing to throw it at her attacker. Gloria merely laughed as the object clattered to the ground before her and her companion, Isaac (Boy #16), laughed along with her.

Knowing that the boomerang would nowdo very little to protect her and feeling the urgency rise inside her, April sprang to her feet and took off in a mad dash, the blood pouring from her many injuries. Seeing her prey run off produced a surprising amount of glee from Gloria and she quickly glanced back at Isaac.

"Take care of that one!" Gloria called out and motioned toward the alley with her head before sprinting after April. Isaac watched the two girls disappear around a corner and he shrugged. Slowly he walked down the small alley until he loomed directly over Naomi. She did not respond to his presence however, instead staring down at the ground before her.

_Is she dead?_

Isaac expected some kind of reaction from his intended victim, but she did not move. He pulled back his arm and swung it forward into Naomi's shoulder. Her body jolted, but she made no sound. Isaac yanked the blade free and the blood poured from the wound down Naomi's arm and along her curled fingers before finally reaching the ground. Very slowly, so slowly that Isaac barely noticed, Naomi moved her head and stared at the deep cut to her shoulder. Then she moved her head forward and stared up at Isaac with her dead eyes.

The glance was unsettling to Isaac for some reason. He'd seen plenty of dead bodies since the beginning of The Program, and even a few before that. A corpse did not disturb Isaac anymore, but for some reason, the vacant expression he was bearing witness to worried him. He took a step back, like he expected the fatally wounded girl to fight back. When she still did not react, Isaac approached her again and raised the machete high above his head to end her life. Again the dead eyes cut deep into him and the boy froze, the machete still ready to strike high above his head. To his horror, Naomi stirred below him. His arms fell to his sides and he backed off a few steps as the girl slowly climbed to her feet. She didn't stand upright, but instead appeared hunched over when she finally regained her balance. Strands of her hair fell over her face, and with those glossy eyes staring at him from behind the hair, Isaac felt like he was staring at some kind of monster. She took a staggering step forward, but Isaac felt himself unable to move. Another step. And then another. Before Isaac knew it, the girl stared at him directly in the face, her vacant eyes penetrating his own and staring directly at his soul.

"We're all going to die." She muttered, "You too. No one escapes The Program. I'm dying now. But you'll die soon too."

Isaac's breath caught his throat. He turned his gaze away from her and shoved her away with his bad hand. It sent a flash of pain through his left side of his body but it was enough to get the girl away from him. He took a deep breath and finally regained control over himself. He raised the machete high, but this time he didn't freeze. The blade fell down and embedded itself into the top of Naomi's head. Her legs gave out, and her body collapsed, the machete still stuck inside her cranium. Isaac attempted to pull the blade out, and Naomi's body followed his swipe, seemingly attached the machete now.

Without warning, Naomi's arm swung up and swatted Isaac's hand away from the machete. Isaac yelped in surprise and jumped back, stumbling slightly and tumbling to the ground on his ass. He gazed up in horror as Naomi climbed up to her feet. Blood dripped down from her head and streaked down her face, matting the strands of hair to her forehead and around her eyes. The vacant expression had not left, and she stared down at Isaac with her dead eyes, the machete still stuck inside her brain.

* * *

April was running as fast as her legs would carry her. However, her wounds were taking a bigger toll on her than she had anticipated, and she could already tell that her vision was blurring. But nothing was going to stop her mad sprint, and as long as she continued running, then no one would be able to catch her. The rattling exploded behind her and several bullets streaked by her head. April cried out in surprise and forced herself to run faster.

Gloria continued the chase, sprinting as fast she could with the Uzi that she almost felt was slowing her down. Still, besides the gun, Gloria had no other weapons, which gave her limited options about how to finish off April. And on top of that, Gloria only had the one clip of bullets for the powerful gun, which meant that when she was out of bullets, the gun was useless to her. She had to choose the right time to fire the shots that would kill April, but in the meantime, she didn't mind shooting two or three quick bullets on the off chance she wounded her prey more.

The problem with the urban setting, April was beginning to notice, was the grid-like qualities it possessed. The streets were wide and straight without much debris for April to dodge around and avoid bullet fire. To keep from getting shot, April was continually forced to take alleys and side streets to throw off Gloria's aim. But in the back of April's mind, the map formed for her to read, and she recalled that the city portion of the playing field was littered with danger zones. Running like this was very dangerous, since she had lost track of which direction she was going. Hiding was out of the question at this point, but if she could get the gun out of Gloria's hands, then the threat would be gone.

An open door caught April's eye and she headed for it, hoping that she'd able to fight back inside the building. She crossed the street and avoided all but one bullet that lodged itself into her shoulder. She winced but continued running through the open doorway. A set of stairs stared at her to her immediate left and she sprinted up them and began climbing another flight as Gloria gave chase from the very bottom. The stairs were tiring, but they provided cover from the Uzi. But soon, April had climbed four flights, and the stairs ended. She'd need to do something else now. Her eyes drifted down a long corridor with only a few doors on either side. She sprinted forward down the hall and tried the first door on her left. It was locked. April could hear Gloria climbing the stairs two at a time. She ran to the next door to find it locked as well. She turned her head just in time to see Gloria reach the top of the stairs and faced the long hallway.

Bullets whizzed by April's head and she jumped to the side, right through a door that was luckily unlocked. She fell to the ground as more bullets raced down the hallway. She kicked the door shut and ran to it, trying to lock it with the dead bolt. But before she could slide it into place, the wood splintered off the door as bullets exploded through it from the other side. April cried out as new bullets made their way into her body and even more blood flowed from her body.

Gloria kicked the door open smiling maliciously and rushed forward, swinging her Uzi like a blunt object. It connected with April's face, effectively breaking her nose. She recoiled from the strike, her hands rushing to her face and leaving her stomach open to a kick. April doubled over in pain, blood making its way down her body and to the ground below her. She swung out with her fist, but missed horribly and Gloria swung the powerful gun up and nailed April's chin. April fell back and hit the window behind her. Gloria saw her chance and rushed forward, jumping into the air and kicking April through the window.

April felt the glass shatter behind her and in a panic, reached out for anything to grab hold of. She gripped Gloria's foot, still planted in her chest, and the two girls tumbled out into the open air. One of them screamed, although neither knew which one it was. They spun and twirled in the air like some kind of graceful dance as they struggled against gravity in a feeble attempt to escape with their lives. Their bodies were intertwined, but slowly their flailing limbs separated and the girls fell individually. But they hit the ground at the same time.

Gloria landed on her right arm, and she heard a snap at the moment of contact. Her right humerus had shattered upon impact, and while the bone fractured and splinters through her arm, nothing protruded. Still, her arm had gone numb which spread through her body, but slowly the numbness wore off, and her funny bone throbbed from the pain she could only partially feel. She'd also hit her head pretty hard on the street below and a gash formed on her forehead from which the blood flowed down her face and nearly entered her eye. She moaned in pain as glass from the window raineddown upon her. She placed only one hand on the ground to lift herself up since she found herself unable to move the other arm. The glass on the ground cut into her palm, but she brushed it off and finally rose to her feet. She glanced over and noticed that the Uzi had clattered to the ground a few feet away. She moved to recover it.

April felt like crying. She'd landed on her back and the pain raced through her entire body. She could feel several cuts on her back from when the window had shattered, and she was pretty sure that she had some internal bleeding, although she had know way of knowing if that was true or not. However, the most noticeable realization was that she could no longer move either of her legs. April wasn't sure whether that meant she had broken them both or whether she'd injured her spine. April tried to sit up, but pain shot through her entire body and she collapsed to the ground again. She turned her head and watched as Gloria rose to her feet and approached the gun. April's initial thought was to run away, but she immediately recognized the fact that it was over. Gloria was injured too, but nowhere near as crippled as April. It was only a matter of time before Gloria finished off April.

The girl's eyes drifted to her duffel bag that was only a foot away from her. A memory popped into her mind and she frantically moved for the bag. Gloria paid the girl no heed since she was solely focused on picking up the gun, which was proving to be more difficult than previously thought. April finally grabbed the bag and pulled it closer to her. She opened it and pulled the device from where she had stashed it after Gloria and Isaac had found her. The boomerang was long gone, so April pulled the duct tape from the bag also. She placed the device on the ground and began to pummel it with the large roll of duct tape.

_I can't let her get the collar detector. She'll find more victims if she has this._

Gloria glanced over to see April bashing the invaluable device. She hissed with fury and pain and took two steps forward, aiming the gun with only her left arm. The shots were badly aimed but still managed to hit April's stomach and tear a considerable amount of flesh from her body. The girl shrieked in terror and shock, but then resumed her final act, doing her best to destroy the machine.

"Stop it!" Gloria commanded and shot again, missing April completely this time with her spray. Gloria was finally within close range and April stared up at her killer with a mixture of intensity and sadness. Gloria saw no need for any cliché sarcastic words before pulling the trigger since her body still ached all over and she had no feeling whatsoever in her right arm. The bullets splashed out of the gun and April's body jolted as the deadly pieces of metal easily penetrated her face and brain. She never even had a chance to scream.

Gloria stared down at what used to be the girl's face and she sneered with fury, realizing that this kill had taken more effort than she would have expected. Her eyes settled on the collar detector, the object of her desire for a good majority of the game. The screen was cracked in a few places, and the light behind the screen flashed on and off. Gloria could still see the dots that represented other contestants on the screen when it flashed on. Even though it was malfunctioning, it could still be useful. Gloria leaned over to pick up the device and then remembered that her right arm was now useless. She put down the Uzi and picked up the semi-functioning collar detector and placed it into her pocket. She then picked up the Uzi and slowly began her trek back to meet Isaac.

* * *

Isaac stared up in terror as Naomi loomed over him, the machete still buried inside her cranium. Her dead eyes and vacant expression mixed with the blood that flowed from should be her fatal head wound reminded him of some kind of cheesy zombie movie. She took a step toward him and slowly her arm rose, gripping the handle of the machete. With one lift the large blade was freed from her brain and blood and brain matter fell off the weapon to the ground. Her body twitched abnormally, but still she pressed forward toward Isaac.

"We're all going to die." She murmured, her eyes focused solely on Isaac. The fear welled up within him and he found himself overwhelmed. Unable to watch her slowly approach him any longer, Isaac sprang to his feet and ran to the entrance of the alley. He spun to see that Naomi was moving faster now. Her body still twitched as she moved, but her steps were quicker now and her stride was longer. She was chasing him.

"No one escapes The Program." Isaac found himself again wanting to run, but this time he felt glued to the spot. He looked into Naomi's flat eyes, feeling them slowly sucking out his soul. He tried to breathe, but even the air refused to enter his lungs as long as Naomi's eyes were focused upon him. She was only a few feet away at that point, moving more quickly than anyone would have expected her to move with such a horrific wound.

She stopped a foot away from Isaac. Everything inside his brain told him to run away, to fight back, but nothing worked. Fear had taken his body captive, and it was about to cost him his life.

"You have ended my life, and so I end yours." Naomi whispered to him as the machete was lifted high into the air.

_No one escapes The Program._

The rattling seemed to come from out of nowhere, but Isaac watched as Naomi's body jerked and many tiny holes exploded out from her body. The girl stumbled back, her face twitching. She gazed off to the side, and as her eyes left Isaac, he felt the air rush into his lungs, his body once again obeying his commands. He jumped back and saw his girlfriend standing relatively close and holding the Uzi with only one hand. He wanted to ask her where she had received all those wounds, but his head turned back to Naomi to see that she was once again on her feet, stumbling toward the both of them.

Isaac reacted instinctively, rushing forward and punching Naomi in the face before kicking her hand that held the machete. She released the blade and Isaac kicked her back while he went to retrieve it. Grabbing the slippery handle still covered in blood and grey matter, he swung it out, cutting Naomi horizontally across the chest. She fell to the ground and looked up at Isaac with her dead eyes. With a cry of determination, Isaac swung the machete down, sinking it deep into Naomi's face. He quickly pulled it back and struck again, burying it further into her skull. He struck again and again and finally he stopped, staring down at what had been an attractive girl, although no one would be able to tell that anymore. The flesh was cleaved off her skull and only bits hung from what used to be her face. Her hair was matted down to her bone with blood and many teeth lay broken inside her deformed mouth.

Isaac breathed heavily, and then glanced over at Gloria who had slowly made her way over to him. Slowly the adrenaline left his body and he was able to take one last look at his latest victim. He noticed that one of Naomi's vacant eyes lay untouched on the ground in front of her body. Isaac lifted his foot and smashed it with his sneaker.

* * *

Minh (Boy #6) was leading the group with his very powerful shotgun. With the muzzle, he effectively pushed shrubbery and branches out of the way as he carefully made his way through the dense forest. And while he was completely focused on the mission at hand (to not die) he couldn't help his wandering thoughts. The rules dictated that only one person was allowed to live. If they couldn't find a way to escape, then it didn't matter how many people they could round up. Only one was allowed to live, and that meant that either he or Nathan would have to die. Minh attempted to push the disturbing thought from his head, but it persisted, gnawing away at him. As dangerous as the group's actions might be, they were all doomed if they continued to hide out. They needed to find an escape, or all was lost.

Directly behind him was Ariana (Girl #18) who held her ice pick in one hand and a tire iron in the other. Truthfully, the fracture in her left forearm still persisted and it does cause her a noticeable amount of discomfort, but if she gripped the metal instrument tightly, then the throbbing was not as pronounced. And to some degree, she'd gotten used to the pain in her arm. Ariana knew that this was just her body adapting to new circumstances and compensating for her injury, but she couldn't help but feel that her wound's only purpose was to remind her of how she came about it. There was no time to think about her past deceptions – she was knee deep in another one, and the stakes were very high. And besides, how could she possibly worry about the past when her future depended on her performance? She still had so much more to learn – her mind had not yet reached its pinnacle.

Bringing up the rear was Nathan (Boy #19), dagger in hand. He didn't mind being behind both of his companions, since it meant that they were always in his sight. His suspicions were slowly weighing down on his conscience, but it seemed like nothing could shake his thoughts from his mind. The deck of cards was nestled in his pocket and pressed up against his thigh. He remembered back to the very start of the game, when he had pulled the deck from his duffel bag. The only card game he knew how to play had entered his mind, and ironically it was named "War". But through the paradox, Nathan had seen the truth in the game. It was not always the highest cards that won – luck played a major role in determining the winner. The strongest cards had an advantage, but if they weren't careful, they would end up casualties of a battle of lesser cards. Nathan knew he'd been lucky so far. He'd survived the first day, numerous confrontations, and also found his boyfriend, someone he almost thought he'd never see again. But his luck couldn't last forever.

Motion caught Ariana's attention off to her side. She froze and Nathan nearly bumped into her, unsure as to why she had ceased moving. He followed her gaze and suddenly he saw it too. There was someone nearby, carefully moving through the foliage. Minh stopped when he realized that his allies were no longer following him. His wandered over and saw what everyone else was watching. The three of them watched the movement for a little bit, none of them sure what to do.

Nathan was the first to act, carefully making his way toward the person traveling in the wooded region. He moved slowly, but not nearly as quietly as he thought. The person suddenly froze, glancing toward Nathan and then squinted through the bushes, making out two more people in the vicinity. He took a step backwards, but Nathan finally decided it was time to speak.

"Wait," he called out and finally emerged from the undergrowth, only a foot away from the stranger. Bruce (Boy #23) stared at Nathan, and then down at his blood stained dagger. He frowned and gripped his katana a little tighter; however he did not raise it. Nathan had taken a chance by coming out of hiding, it was doubtful that he was playing. But even so, Bruce would not be taken by surprise. And even though he wasn't very sure he could kill, he was sure he would wound if the need arose.

"There's no reason to run." Nathan said. Slowly Minh emerged from the forest as well, and sooon after Ariana followed. Bruce examined each of them carefully, noticing that he had not expected this group of people to find each other in The Program and join together. As far as he knew, Ariana was only interested in herself, and everyone knew that Minh and Nathan were friends, but Bruce didn't know their friendship extended this far in terms of trust. But then again, he didn't really know very much about any of these people before him.

"We're looking for a way to escape."

"Escape?" Bruce muttered, the first word he'd said to the group. His grip on the handle of the katana loosened slightly.

"We're trying to round up as many people as possible." Nathan continued, his two companions silently analyzing Bruce, "If we work together, we can beat The Program."

To Bruce, this sounded slightly idealistic. He was pretty sure that there was no way to escape The Program, but the idea of allies was tempting. He'd been alone for such a long time, and some benevolent human interaction was refreshing. But he knew that he couldn't join them.

"I'm looking for my friends. Have any of you seen Molly (Girl #9) or Kara (Girl #24)?"

Nathan glanced back at Ariana and Minh, but neither replied. They had not seen either girl. Nathan turned back to Bruce and sadly shook his head. Bruce sighed deeply and glanced away from the threesome, lost in thought for only a moment. Then he turned back to them.

"I'm sorry, but I can't join you. I have to find my friends before it's too late, and I can move faster on my own. But once I find them, I'm going to come looking for you. If there's a way out of this playing field, I'm sure we can think of it together."

Nathan sighed is disappointment, but nodded his head. He could understand where Bruce was coming from, since he'd have done the same thing if he was still looking for Minh. Bruce nodded at all three and attempted to leave the group.

"Wait." Minh called out, surprising everyone in the area. "Are there any contestants out there we should keep an eye out for? What we're doing is dangerous, and it'd be nice to know beforehand if there are any killers out there to take down immediately."

Jeff (Boy #22) flashed into Bruce's mind, the apathetic glare staring directly back at him. The scythe hung from his hand and drops of blood fell to the ground, splattering loudly against some dead leaves. He hissed something that Bruce couldn't make out and then rushed forward, swinging his blade directly at Bruce. The boy shook his head, removing the thought from his mind.

"No, I haven't come across anyone you should worry about." Bruce lied, "Good luck. I hope I find you again later."

He slowly walked away from them, making sure to listen for any move to follow him, but instead the group moved off together, once again on the search for people to join them. Bruce slightly bad about lying to them, since if they came across Jeff, he'd probably attack without mercy. But Bruce could not bring himself to admit that Jeff should be shot upon sight. He knew that deep down his friend still existed, and that there was a way to save him. And if there was no way to rescue his friend from The Program, then Bruce would be the one to kill him. No one else knew Jeff well enough to claim that right. But Bruce wished that his friend would return to him, and that he would not have to take out Jeff to protect his remaining friends.

Waves of confusion, loyalty, anxiety, hope, and conflict rushed over Bruce's body as he continued off on his own. His head swam with so many differing thoughts that he struggled to find the best way to respond to Jeff, but nothing felt right, and nearly every scenario ended with Jeff and Bruce fighting.

_How can I save Jeff from himself?_

Ariana watched the boy go, worry covering his entire face. He was certainly not telling all he knew, but that didn't matter to Ariana. With her superior mind, she'd soon discover it for herself if it was even worth her time knowing. As Minh and Nathan slowly made their way back into the forest, she lingered where she was, making a mental image of Bruce. Deep down, she knew that she'd eventually run into him again.

She was right.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 48, 50, 56, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 5

(15) Contestants remaining


	44. Gaining Experience

Matt (Boy #20) clutched his arms to his body and hugged his Kevlar vest closer to him. He glanced around the wooded area where he had remained for a very long time. But as every minute passed, he was slowly becoming more and more uneasy. He was fine when things were quiet, but that massive explosion had unsettled him. He'd hear a scream every once in a while too, which worried him since that meant that there people nearby. But no one had stumbled upon the boy since he had stopped to rest over five hours ago. And that was fine with him, since he knew that if they found him, they'd try to shoot him. Matt smirked to himself when recognized this fact again, knowing that they could shoot at him all they wanted, since it wouldn't do any good as long as he had that bulletproof vest. He'd been shot several times already, but none of them had damaged him at all. Still, Matt recognized the fact that his vest could only do so much. He'd need to find other ways to protect himself against everyone else.

_They all want to shoot me! I need more protection. I need to shoot them first!_

Matt cautiously stood, and glanced around, making sure no one was waiting for him to fall into their trap. He knew all about traps, and he knew all about the rules of combat. He'd played enough videogames to recognize how fighting out here was like. Enough first person shooters to fire a gun efficiently. Enough role playing games to recognize that sooner or later, rivals would battle to the death. And enough fighting games to succeed in hand to hand combat. His ability to drive superbly from those racing games wouldn't be applied here, but that was fine. He'd taken enough knowledge from those videogames to win in The Program. Hell, they were more like battle simulations anyways.

He raised his fists and began lightly jumping from one foot to the other like some kind of boxer.

_Okay, Y button is punch, useful for fast attacks and knocking the enemy off guard._

Matt threw a few punches in the air, two quick jabs with his left followed by a sloppy uppercut. But to the boy who was slowly losing his mind, this small combo seemed exactly like he had seen on the screen in front of him many times before. He then raised his foot in the air at a feeble attempt at a kick and then jumped up, sticking out his other leg in a jump kick that would barely reach another contestant's chest.

_B button is kick, and used for stronger attacks. X button is for guard and can protect any attacks as long as you're either standing or crouching._

He then threw his hands out and wrapped up an imaginary person, pretending to run up their body and then kick their head before jumping off to the side.

_And finally, A button is for powerful throws when the enemy is blocking._ _Heh, I could be a ninja with these awesome skills._

He started jumping around the area, throwing punches and kicks at imaginary enemies, defeating them all with minimal effort. He proudly smiled over their nonexistent bodies, impressed with his own fighting ability. A ninja of his caliber surely deserved true ninja garb. Without thinking, Matt pulled down his pants and removed his boxers, wrapping them around his head, covering his nose and mouth and only revealing his eyes, just like ninjas he had seen in movies. He pulled his pants back on, making sure to be careful with the zipper.

_Ninjas are deadly masters of camouflage._

He slowly began slinking off, peering around trees and from behind bushes. As a ninja, trained in the arts of dark assassinations, Matt would have no problem in fighting hand to hand and avoiding traps, just like in his videogames. But he still needed to practice his shooting skills. He held out an imaginary gun and jumped from behind a tree, firing out into the open air with his fingers and yelling, "BANG! BANG!"

He smiled with satisfaction, knowing that his aim and accuracy were completely unmatched. His Kevlar vest chaffed up against his body, and he adjusted it slightly, scratching an area on his stomach. The vest was the only piece of clothing he wore on his upper body (except for his boxers now), since he had long since tossed his shirt after it continued to bleed on him. The vest had kept him safe.

_Okay, I've successfully passed this test. Level One was avoiding death with only vest, and I was able to do that with little difficulty. After all, I never die on Level One. That's for losers who don't know how to play. And I just passed Level Two – honing my ninja skills along with my sharp shooting skills. It's time to move on to Level Three – my first Boss fight!_

The boy's reality waned as he continued on, lugging his duffel bag behind him. He jumped from place to place, thinking he was acting very stealthy, but making much more noise than he realized. Every once in a while, he'd toss out a punch at someone who wasn't there and he'd laugh about how easy the upcoming Boss fight was going to be with all the experience points he was gaining. And maybe if he was lucky, he'd find some Materia to help him out.

* * *

Molly (Girl #9) was the first one to emerge from the forest, stepping out into the late morning sun. She checked her map and decided she was probably on the western side of the large suburban area. It was already an hour past the most recent danger zone, so she didn't need to worry about one popping up where she was. And there were plenty of houses in this area. It was the perfect spot for her and her companion to take a rest, eat some lunch, and prepare for the next set of announcements, which were coming up very soon.

She glanced back and motioned for her friend to join her. Slowly, Kara (Girl #24) emerged from the foliage, dragging her heavy duffel bag on the ground behind her. She was again tired of carrying the bag that contained her designated weapon – a bowling ball – and was looking for some rest. Not the most athletic girl in the world, Kara had been tempted to leave her weapon behind several times, but each time she decided that it was better to have the heavy object than nothing at all. Meanwhile, Molly's weapon was constantly in her hand and she played with it absentmindedly when there was nothing else better to do.

Molly tossed her map back into her duffel bag and then swung her yo-yo out and spun it around before snapping her wrist and sending the orb directly back into her waiting palm. Kara glanced from left to right, but didn't see anyone, and so the two girls marched forward into the open area. They heard no gunshots or footsteps, and so they determined that they were safe, for the moment.

"What kind of house are we looking for?" Kara asked quietly, worried that even the softest whisper would attract deadly attention.

"I'm not sure." Molly replied, glancing around. She wasn't as worried about noise as she was about running into another contestant. They carefully made their way through the collection of houses on the lookout for a safe place to rest. Molly wanted some place away from the forest since she believed, for one reason or another, that the majority of contestants were there. And the further away from them they could get, the better. Kara was trying her best to understand the game around her, but she couldn't seem to draw any concrete conclusions. She had no idea where contestants would be headed, no idea which places would be the best hiding spots, and what kinds of things to watch out for. She was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to recognize a trap if she stumbled across one. Despite the removal of all objects for The Program, she felt she should be able to do something with what is left behind rather than simply running and hiding. And even though she could stand up for herself when the need arose, she was no fighter.

_Ugh, why do I suck so much at this game?_

Molly released her yo-yo and it spun down to the ground before she jerked the string and the spinning orb quickly jumped back to her hand. Her eyes scanned the surrounding area, but her mind wandered elsewhere.

* * *

It was warm out, but the air between them was cold. Molly wrapped her arms around her body as a breeze drifted by, tossing her hair about. She brushed some out of her eyes, but kept her focus on the ground below her. The night sky was dark above them, the glow of the stars overshadowed by the large amount of light on the ground. Or maybe there were no stars out that night, Molly couldn't tell. He cleared his throat so that she could tell he was still there, but she didn't need any reminders. She knew what was coming, and the anticipation was killing her.

"You're breaking up with me, aren't you?" Her words cut through the dead air between them, and slowly she lifted her head and stared at him directly in the face.

Derek (Boy #2) stared back at her and then sighed, glancing off to the side. That confirmed it for her. He couldn't look at her now - he was instead building his strength, preparing to let it all out at once. And then he would look at her again.

"It's not that I don't care about you. You know that, right?" he spoke carefully. He glanced up from the ground and took a step toward her. She wanted to edge away, but Molly kept her feet planted into the ground. She slowly felt the urge to cry well up inside her, but she refused. She felt no shame in crying in front of Derek, but there were plenty of other people exiting the movie theater at that moment. Molly could last throughout this exchange, and then bawl her eyes out once she was alone in her room later that night. She could hold out that long.

Realizing that Molly had no responded, Derek continued, "I do care about you Molly."

She simply nodded, clutching herself a little tighter.

"But…" Derek trailed off. His gaze had wandered from her again. She inhaled deeply and then let it out. A group of kids younger than the pair drifted by, laughing loudly about the movie they had just seen. Molly and Derek did not notice them. Both were focused solely on each other, and the rest of the world was easily drowned out.

"I know what you want." Derek said suddenly. He was gazing at Molly again, and slowly her brow furrowed. "You want a strong relationship. You want a guy to be as crazy about you as you are about him. You want someone to wake up thinking of you, and to picture you before he falls asleep. And Molly, I want those things for you too."

He took a few steps forward, and stood directly in front of her, staring slightly down into her face.

"But I can't give you those things." Molly turned away from the words she did not want to hear. She hugged herself tightly, and the first tear slid down her face without her even being aware of it. "You deserve a guy who can give you everything you want and more. And it's not fair for me to pretend I can be him."

Her tears fell like waterfalls. She hated crying like this, but she couldn't help herself. Deep down, she knew that Derek was speaking the truth, but she didn't want to hear it. Molly wanted Derek to be able to be the right one for her, even if they both understood that he wasn't.

"I'm sorry." He said and wrapped Molly in a hug, making it unnecessary for her to hug herself any longer. She cried into his shirt, allowing herself to fully let go of everything she felt for him. Even if this was the right decision, it didn't stop the hurt from existing. She clutched him close to her, feeling his presence around her, because at that moment, that was all she needed and that was something Derek could give her.

* * *

"What about that house?" Kara asked, and Molly was jerked back to reality.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. Which one?" Molly glanced at Kara and followed her gaze. The house in question looked just any other, and Molly could see nothing wrong with it. She supposed that this house was as good as any other. In an effort to pick the best place to hide out, she did a quick scan around the area, and suddenly her eyes settled on something she'd missed before.

"What's that over there?" Molly asked and pointed. Kara turned her head and squinted, not seeing anything worth noticing.

"I don't see anything."

"I mean on the ground."

Kara lowered her eyes, as she had only been looking at houses, and not objects on the grass. At first she couldn't tell what she was observing. It seemed like pinkish pipes, or long slender pieces of tan licorice. The two girls moved toward the objects, and suddenly they came into view. Two bodies laid sprawled out on the ground. Kara held back the urge to vomit, especially as she focused on Luna's (Girl #5) dark blue puffy face. Molly found herself unable to turn away from the horrific scene. The girl by her feet was clearly dead, but the monstrous body near her had its face covered by a large metal shield. However, with the blatant wounds to his ankles and the eerie unmoving quality he possessed, Molly was positive the boy before her was dead as well. Her eyes traveled down his only visible arm and settled on the taser he held in his hand.

Kara turned away from the horrific scene, unable to stare into the dead face any longer. She hadn't known Luna personally, but she'd seen the girl around school and now she was dead right at Kara's feet. The energy was quickly drained from Kara's body and she fell to her knees, no longer able to stand. Not sensing Molly anywhere near her, she forced herself to turn back. She watched as Molly slowly reached down toward the taser gripped in the giant's hand.

She was about to turn back when her eyes settled on Luna's dead face one last time. The poor girl had been strangled, or at least that's what Kara imagined had happened, since she seemed to have no other wounds. She looked beyond the horrific face and stared at the girl's neck, noticing the dark marks still implanted there. Kara squinted a little, and then crawled a little closer, without getting too close to the dead body. She turned her head and stared at Luna's bruised neck, noticing the marks of fingers on the side. The marks of massive fingers.

_Who has hands that big?_

Kara glanced to the side as time seemed to slow down. She watched as Molly's hand was two inches away from the taser clasped in the large boy's hand. His massive hands. Kara glanced down at Luna's dead face, and then back up at the gladiator's body, his face hidden by the shield. The mask that concealed the very much _alive_ boy beneath.

"MOLLY!" Kara screamed just as the shield flew up off of Sid (Boy #14) and the lifeless hand holding the taser gripped it tighter and pressed the button, surging the weapon to life. It was thrust directly into Molly's chest and the girl screamed as the voltage raced through her body. Her knees gave out as the taser was removed and suddenly she was tackled by the giant, pinning her back to the ground.

Molly pulled her arm back and thrust forward her hand still gripping the yo-yo directly into Sid's cheek. Her attack went unnoticed as the large boy sent another jolt through her body with the taser. With his free hand, he easily flipped the girl over and placed all his weight on her back. He carefully placed the taser into his pocket and reached down with both hands, cutting off all air from Molly's lungs. He grinned maliciously in this very familiar situation. His eyes wandered over to his first victim, and then over to the girl frozen in time right near her. He was worried she might pull something, but from the looks of things, she was too immobilized by fear to do much of anything. She'd make an easy third victim.

Kara watched in horror as Molly struggled to free herself from the large boy pinning her to the ground. She tried to lift herself up but failed miserably. Kara watched as Molly became more frantic, desperately trying to yank the fingers free from her neck. When that failed, Molly turned her eyes on Kara, pleading with her to fight her fear, to help her.

Kara tried to inhale, but found herself unable to breathe. It was as if Sid was choking both girls at the same time. She tried to move, tried to breathe, but nothing worked. She was frozen there, watching her friend slowly die.

* * *

"I'll get it." Bruce (Boy #23) smiled and made his way over to the water hazard. Kara slowly followed him over, the mini golf club in hand, watching as he lay down on his stomach and extended his arm out, trying to grab her pink ball that had fallen into the water.

"Here, use my club." Kara offered.

"It's okay. I almost got it." Bruce replied and continued to reach for it.

"You know, you don't have to do this. I can just go to the people who work here. They probably have a net or something." Kara said, glancing around her for some help. Bruce didn't respond, and so Kara didn't bother going anywhere. Bruce had set his mind to helping her, and he'd stay in that spot until he grabbed the ball drifting just out of his reach, even with his club.

"Why do always do things like this?" Kara asked after a minute of Bruce's continued unsuccessful attempts.

"Do what?" Bruce replied, the pink ball drifting a little further away.

"You're always doing things for me. Do you think that you have to do these things for me?"

"No, I just like doing things for my friends."

"But why? It's nice sometimes, but other times it makes me feel incompetent. Like you don't think I can do something myself, so you have to do it for me."

Bruce paused and glanced up at Kara from the ground. "It really makes you feel that way?" Kara sensed a little hurt in his voice, and she suddenly felt bad for being inconsiderate.

"Not all the time." She replied truthfully.

"I didn't know." Bruce said and resumed his attempts to grasp the golf ball bobbing in the water. There was an uncomfortable pause. "I only do it because I like to protect you."

"Protect me?" Kara replied lightly, "From getting wet?"

"No," Bruce said and grunted as the ball slipped through his fingers, "What I mean is that I have to protect those things that I care about most, and that includes you and the rest of my friends."

"I still don't understand-" Kara was cut off.

"Protecting is more than just helping out when someone could get hurt. It means that I give my all to them. I do everything in my power for them, because their life is now my life too."

Kara watched as Bruce finally grabbed the ball and held it up triumphantly. He smiled as he stood and walked over to her, placing the pink golf ball covered in beads of murky water into her hand.

"Here you go." He said and turned away from her, his words still running through her mind.

"Where did you learn all this stuff about protection, Bruce?" Kara asked. She watched Bruce freeze for a moment, as if he was suddenly lost, searching for the right path out of the woods. Slowly he came to his senses, and he turned to face her. He smiled warmly.

"It's your turn, Kara, and don't worry, I won't give you that one stroke penalty for the water." And that was the only answer he gave.

_

* * *

_

It means that I give my all to them.

Kara watched as Molly slowly began to struggle less and less, the energy being stolen from her body along with her air. Kara's grip on her duffel bag tightened in her hand.

_I do everything in my power for them, because their life is now my life too._

With a cry, Kara leapt to her feet, swinging the duffel bag that contained her designated weapon, a bowling ball, and smashed it into Sid's head. She heard him grunt in pain as his body rolled off of Molly's. Molly coughed as air finally reached her lungs, and she clutched her throbbing throat, stumbling to her feet and away from Sid's body. Kara screeched again, swinging the duffel bag down and slamming it into Sid's stomach. The boy gasped as all the air rushed from his body, and his eyes welled with tears. Kara pulled her bag back, and prepared to swing it up and smash in Sid's skull.

"Kara!" Molly rasped. Kara stopped mid-swing and glanced over. "I'm okay now! Let's get out of here!"

Kara stared down at Sid by her feet and then quickly moved away before he pulled that taser out of his pocket. Kara ran to Molly, who still grasped her aching neck with her free hand and together the two girls escaped from the giant.

* * *

Bruce moved carefully through the urban area. It was littered with danger zones, and there weren't too many places to find cover if the need arose. He could always run into a building if he needed to, but then he'd be in a bad position if he needed to get out of there quickly. And with the upcoming announcement, it was best to stay outside where he could sprint off in case his area went danger zone immediately following the update.

He sighed, holding the katana loosely in his hand. He dragged it along the ground once, and then decided that the less sound he could make, the better. He placed the dull side of the katana on top of the flesh between his shoulder and the base of his neck, resting there as he casually walked down the deserted street. Bruce looked up and down the street, doing his best to see in windows for movement. He knew that his friends would not move from their hiding places unless they knew he was there. He was tempted to call out their names, but he recalled that the less sound he made, etc.

As Bruce continued walking, however, an odor slowly drifted into his nostrils. It smelled harsh, and seemed to settle inside his nose. He coughed once, but it did not go away. The coppery smell only seemed to get stronger. He saw the body coming forty feet away. He saw glass reflecting sunlight up into his eyes and slowly the image of a body came into view. His breathe caught in his throat as horrific images passed through his mind.

_Please, no. Don't let it be one of them. I can't lose any more of them._

He raced forward and stared down at the corpse lying at his feet. The face was mutilated beyond recognition, but he saw strands of hair still attached to the skull. For a moment, he thought it could have been Molly, but slowly he dismissed the thought. Molly's hair was darker than this girl's, and Kara's was shorter. No it wasn't either of them. Relief washed over him as he stared down at the body. He hated to admit that he was relieved that someone else had died instead of his friends, but that was one of the awful truths of The Program. The Program somehow got into every contestant's mind – whether they decided to play, or whether they allowed satisfaction to enter their minds that other people had died and those they cared about continued to live.

But Bruce could not help himself from feeling this way. The lives of his friends were his own, and he'd already lost half of them. Half of his family, half of his life, was gone. And of those who remained, Jeff (Boy #22) seemed to be on the verge of losing his. Bruce wanted to do everything he could to preserve what life he had left, but he knew that this would be extremely difficult. Molly and Kara would need to be protected, but Jeff was a different story. Jeff needed to be stopped, and while Bruce had made up his mind a while ago, he still questioned whether he could kill Jeff. Whether he could kill a part of himself.

_I can't let it come to that. I have to do everything I can to save him._

Bruce hated these thoughts that kept jumping back and forth. He'd feel like it was his duty to kill Jeff, and then he'd feel absolutely horrible even considering doing something like that, and then he'd wonder how else he'd be able to protect the rest of his friends from Jeff. Things were far too confusing, and there would be no way to gauge what would happen. Bruce would have to wait until the confrontation occurred before he knew what the right thing to do was.

"I'm sorry." Bruce whispered to the corpse at his feet and stepped over her onto some broken glass. He noticed that there was blood on the ground nearby as well, but the trail seemed to lead in another direction, toward the most recent danger zone – area 5. He ignored it and continued on his way alone.

He'd gone a few hundred yards when he suddenly heard some noise to his left. He gripped the katana tightly and faced the sound of footsteps slowly approaching him. He watched as a girl suddenly appeared from a shadow filled alley, some kind of tool pointed directly at his chest. He recognized her from earlier in The Program.

"I didn't expect to see you again." Kim (Girl #17) said suspiciously as she eyed the large sword in his hand.

"Nice nail gun." Bruce replied quickly, "Where'd you get it? I don't remember you having that the last time I saw you."

"Still looking for your friends, huh?" Kim asked completely ignoring his question.

"Speaking of friends, where are yours? I remember a few of them with you the last time." Bruce retorted.

Both contestants stared at one another, neither of them moving for a solid five minutes and neither knew how to weigh the situation. There were far too many unanswered questions, too many possibilities between the two of them. The only thing the two of them could agree on was that they didn't trust the other.

However, it appeared that neither of them was particularly interested in the other and it also appeared that neither of them wanted to fight. That suited the both of them just fine. Bruce was the first to move, the grip on his katana still tight as he continued a hard stare at Kim. He took a few steps to the side, wanting to continue his search in the city area. Kim remained frozen, the nail gun pointed directly at the boy before her. She didn't want to fire any nails, since her ammo was very limited, but she also had more pressing matters on her mind. She had her friends to locate as well. Bruce saw his chance for escape and suddenly took off in a sprint. Kim suppressed the urge to pull the trigger and watched him go.

"Watch out for the dead body over there." Bruce called over his back and he was gone. The nail gun tightened in her grasp, but she did not reply. Instead, she continued on her way, deciding not to tell him that she had come across at least one of his friends in the forest. However, Kim was about to learn that Bruce had come across one of her friends also, and he'd just warned her about it.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 48, 50, 56, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: none

(15) Contestants remaining


	45. Lies

For the first time in a long time Kim (Girl #17) was crying. Try as she might, the helplessness completely overwhelmed her and she sobbed into her hands covering her face. She pulled her hands away and gazed down at the corpse directly in front of her, unable to recognize the mutilated face, but instead identifying it by the clothes that Kim wished were not so familiar.

_April's_ (Girl #15) _dead._

Kim carefully bent forward, ignoring the horrific odor and cradled what remained of her friend's head.

"I'm sorry April." Kim whispered as another tear ran down her face in the same path others before it had made. She fought back the urge to vomit and allowed herself to sit there, holding the gory remains of one of the best friends she'd ever had. Memories flooded back to Kim, those very first moments with April. She remembered meeting April through their common friend Cassie (Girl #4), and she remembered her initial impression of the girl. She was annoying.

Granted, Kim's tolerance for people was low anyways, but April went so far beyond that. She was energetic and loud – the perfect candidate for a cheerleader, if she ever decided to try out. Kim didn't like the way April would just speak her mind whenever the need arose, and how she had assigned herself "mother hen" over her friends. Kim didn't like having things done for her or having someone else tell her what to do, and it wasn't until she really lost her temper with April that their friendship started. They kept their distance from one another after that argument, but Kim discovered that April was slowly growing on her. She was still annoyed by some of the girl's actions, but April's devotion to her friends was something Kim had never witnessed before. And it wasn't long before the girls were enjoying each other's company.

"Why did you die?" Kim sighed, turning her face upwards to the sky, her breathing slowly returning to normal, "What happened to you? Where is-"

And slowly Kim realized that someone was missing. She carefully placed the corpse back on the ground, frantically glancing around her for another body, but could find none, and while that comforted her slightly, it raised more important questions.

_April, where is Naomi_ (Girl #11)?

When she'd last seen her dead friend, she'd been with Naomi. But now Kim's other friend was missing. Her eyes settled on a blood stain near April's body, and her stomach tightened into a knot.

_Please, don't let both of them be dead. I can't lose all my friends. I wanted to protect them, please don't let them all die!_

Grabbing her duffel bag in one hand and her nail gun in the other, Kim raced after the trail of blood leading away from the shattered glass littering the ground. She followed the trail along a long stretch of street, and as she ran, the sky slowly became ominously dark. Kim stopped and glanced up into the sky, watching the dark grey clouds slowly consume the sun. The sight made her feel uneasy, and she suddenly realized how risky it was to run around in the city area. Danger zones were most prevalent here, and she could have accidentally wandered into one. Kim pulled the map from her bag along with her compass and stared at it, doing her best to determine where she was. She stared at it long and hard, slowly realizing that she had nearly walked directly into the newest danger zone. She stared down at the trail of blood that made its way directly into the forbidden area.

_Naomi, does this mean that you're dead too?_

A drop of water exploded on Kim's nose, and she nearly cried out in surprise. She glanced up into the dark sky, and another drop fell down, landing on her forehead. Kim sighed, realizing that she could do nothing else at the moment. It was about to rain, and Kim wanted to avoid getting wet if she could. She took another glance down at the blood before her, and then slowly turned away, making her way down the empty street.

All she needed was a place to take shelter for the time being. She glanced all around her, looking at all the buildings that would be perfect for avoiding rain, but for some reason she did not stop at any of them. Kim continued walking slowly, making her way down alleys and more empty streets and before she was aware of it, she found herself once again standing over the body of her friend April. Kim felt two more drops descend upon her head, but she didn't care at that moment. She stared down at her friend's body, but the sadness had long since left. Kim had mourned her friend, and now her body sparked some new emotions. A determined stare settled onto Kim's face as she knelt down and folded April's arms over her chest.

_I'm sorry I wasn't here to protect you. But I will find who did this to you. And I will make them pay._

Kim stood up and glanced to her left, examining the building from which April had taken her crippling fall. She sighed, and the she moved toward the building, walking through the doors, searching for a good place to rest while she waited for the rain to pass.

* * *

Leslie (Girl #25) held out her hand as another droplet of water splashed down on her open palm. She turned to her companion who was currently sitting on a large rock and sipping from his water bottle. She wiped the water from her hand on her jeans and walked over to him.

"It's about to rain." She spoke simply and her partner looked up to her face.

"So we should try to find a place before we get drenched, right?" Connor (Boy #4) asked. Leslie nodded absentmindedly as she pulled the map from her bag and tried to determine their current location. She looked around for landmarks and used the compass to the best of her ability, but she couldn't make any concrete conclusions. Exhaling with frustration, she stood up and wiped away another droplet of rain that had fallen on her bare arm. Connor reached out and took both the map and the compass, looking at both and tracing a line with his pencil.

"Okay, so we walked for about an hour through this area here." He pointed with the pencil, "And since then we've been going east. So, if north is that way," Again he pointed with the pencil, "Then we should be in this general area. If we're looking for some housing and in the shortest distance, we should make a path like this." He traced a line with the pencil, "If we do that, we should be able to enter the city district in about half an hour, and hopefully before the rain hits. We should be able to find some kind of abandoned building to stay in for a while."

Leslie glanced at the map and then shrugged in agreement, offering no words of praise. Connor had spent enough time around Leslie not to expect any, and he didn't feel like he was unappreciated. It had been less than a day, but already he was picking up on Leslie's meanings behind her actions and words. Sure, she was harsh and cold, but she was not unfeeling, try as hard as she might. She definitely had a sense of loyalty for sticking around with Connor for so long. And even though she pretended like she didn't care, Connor could see the hope lying inside her. She was just as lost as any other kid out in the playing field and wanted nothing more than to go home.

_Well, from what Leslie said about her uncle, maybe she doesn't want to go home. But she doesn't want to be here._

Leslie said nothing as she put away the map and compass before extending a hand down to Connor. He smiled and reached out, taking her hand. She helped him to his feet and then placed his arm around her shoulder, placing some of his weight onto her body. His leg still hurt like a bitch from when he'd had those few shotgun pellets enter his flesh, but Leslie had been helping him walk since then, and that made traveling that much easier.

_I don't need her telling me that she appreciates me, or even that she likes my company. This right here, helping me walk, says much more than she could ever verbalize._

Leslie walked slowly, feeling the dull pain in her shoulder. Supporting Connor was slowly becoming more and more difficult, but she didn't complain. Hell, if anything, this was making her body stronger. Also, he was useful to have around, since using a compass and a map seemed to be second nature for him. Leslie wondered if that had anything to do with his father being in the military. From what Connor had rambled on about, Leslie would have guessed that he would have been very prepared for The Program. He knew how to fire a gun and he knew how to move around in the wilderness. He had mentioned something about camouflage and how to stake out from the perfect spot. He said he'd learned some things from his dad, and some from his brother. What was his name again? Charlie? It didn't really matter. Leslie could definitely see Connor being a major contender for winning The Program with all the knowledge he possessed.

And yet at the same time, Leslie could not possibly see Connor winning the game. He knew the ins and outs of war, but he had an unusually compassionate nature. He'd entered The Program with no ties to anyone and ended up running into arguably the toughest girl in the game. And instead of running or fighting, he ends up joining forces with her. For all Connor knew, she could be using him for some bigger purpose, but despite everything that had happened, he remained by her side. Sometimes Leslie wondered if it was Connor who had the plan, and that he was merely using her until he could finish her off. But when she glanced over at him, he seemed so innocent, quietly existing in his own world since Leslie had emphasized silence. Try as she might, she could not understand the boy that would not leave her.

Her stomach knotted slightly inside her stomach, but Leslie pushed everything away from her. She took a deep breath as her emotions tried to resurface, but the girl would not have it.

_Emotions are for the weak!_

"You know Leslie," Connor said quietly so that he would not attract attention. He was nearly whispering in her ear as he finished his sentence, "I'm really glad that I met you in all of this."

Leslie's cheeks flushed a dark red that surprised the both of them, and the girl found herself unable to remove the knot that had returned to her stomach. She looked away from him so that Connor would not see what was happening to her and she muttered, "Whatever." The pair nearly tripped over a stone and they stumbled slightly, Leslie finding herself clutching Connor close so that she would not fall. She gasped with surprise and released her grip, the boy suddenly losing his support and tumbling to the ground.

He winced and clutched his damaged leg after landing hard. Leslie stood over him, her face nearly turning a dark purple. She placed a hand to her cheek and felt the unnatural warmth, turning away from her companion.

_What's wrong with me?_

"Leslie, are you okay?" he asked from the ground and slowly began to attempt to stand on his own. Leslie took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. She pictured herself standing on a soft mat, the punching bag directly in front of her. She watched herself pull a fist back before striking full force and then quickly dodging to the side. She spun and used the momentum to throw a powerful kick into the bag which sent it swinging. She felt the apathy fill her, pushing her feelings back into her mind. They all belonged there, where they would not confuse her. Where they could not make her vulnerable. Where the beast slept. Where it could do no harm.

She spun back around, the cold stare covering her face and only the slightest hints of red on her cheeks. "I'm fine." She said and slowly helped Connor to his feet. The rain began to fall slightly harder now, and the soft sounds of many drops of water striking the leaves echoed through the empty silence.

"Let's keep going." Leslie muttered and the pair was off yet again, the episode that had just occurred not up for discussion.

* * *

A rumbling was the first thing that petite little Beth (Girl #1) noticed. The next was the throbbing pain that seemed to be originating in her head and slowly traveling through her body each time her heart beat. The soft sound of rain was very familiar to her ears and she cringed from the memory the rain forced her to recall. She felt the drops of raining hitting her body and she realized that she was outside in the rain. Beth wondered what would possess her to be outside when it was raining, and why she was on the ground, and why her body ached…

And slowly the horrific realization hit the mentally fragile girl like a ton of feathers (since a ton of feathers still weighed a ton, despite their light quality). Beth liked feathers - they reminded her of her comfortable pillows back home.

_Home…_

The girl's eyes welled with tears as she glanced at the ground around her. It had begun to pour by now, and the massive drops of water burst upon impact with the ground all around her. Some drops hit her as well, and they stung the sensitive girl's flesh. She clutched her small arms around her frame as the tears slowly ran down her face, mixing with the raindrops so that it was impossible to tell the difference.

_I'm all alone. I'm defenseless! I don't have anything to protect me!_

This familiar feeling of vulnerability swept over the girl's body and nearly knocked her to the ground. She whimpered as she hugged herself tighter. She remembered the last time she felt this way.

_But he's dead. He's not going to be able to hurt me anymore._

A rustling erupted in the rain storm and Beth spun toward the noise, giving off the tiniest of squeaks. She watched and waited, looking for any sign that someone was there, but she couldn't see anything. The rain was too heavy now. It splashed into her eyes and created a veil that shrouded everything around her. The sound of the rain had become deafening. The buzz swirled around her, filling her ears with the noise.

_Lies. They all lie. They say they don't want to kill, but they lie. They're all the same. They'll lie and then they'll kill me. Liars. Just like him…_

* * *

Beth liked being in the background. She'd always been a small girl, and as the towering figures around her seemed to only grow larger, she became more afraid of them. The boys were especially frightening as thin figures slowly developed powerful muscles and would display their new found strength by fighting. Beth avoided the boys at all costs, scared that they would try to fight her or something like that. But the girls were just as scary as their chests jutted out in front of them and their clothes became more and more mature. Many of the girls didn't fight, but their actions could much worse than any punch that was thrown. Once a fight was over, it was usually over for good. But girls held grudges. And they would not stop their torture. It frightened Beth that this might somehow happen to her, since she could see it going on in her school. And with all this fear existing within the tiny girl, Beth would avoid them all in the hopes that she would just blend in with the walls and that no one would bother her.

She left class early that day, as she did most days, to avoid the mad rush of people going to their next class. The crowded hallways were dangerous for a girl like her. The surging mass of people could easily knock the petite frame from her feet, and it wouldn't take much to trample the girl. She was effective in not being noticed, and it was most likely that if she was lying in the fetal position on the ground, no one would take much notice as they stomped her into submission.

Beth grabbed her books, checking her watch and noticing that the bell was about to ring. She'd have to hurry if she was going to beat the mad rush. She slammed her locker shut and swung her bag over her shoulder. She took off in a mad sprint, only making it a few steps before plowing directly into a large frame. Beth cried out in surprise and fear and fell to the ground, her bag opening and her books spilling over the ground.

"Are you alright?" a male voice asked her. The voice rang through her head, and Beth cringed like a captive, realizing she'd been noticed. She hesitantly glanced up at his face, expecting to see a jeering smile or an angry glare. What she saw instead was a concerned face, and a hand extending down to her. She looked at the open hand, back up at the face, and down at the hand again. She placed a delicate hand into the palm and felt a secure grasp lift her to her feet. He smiled down at her and she slowly felt herself smiling back. In an instant, he had picked up all her books and stuffed them back into her bag. He handed it over to her.

"Thank you." Beth smiled and glanced away to the ground. She stood there still for a moment, and she expected him to walk away. But he didn't move either. Beth opened her mouth to say something more, when the bell rang, and students poured from the many classrooms. Beth cringed as the people swelled around her.

"Where are you going?" he called over the noise. Beth glanced at him, the smiling face still before her. She tried to say her answer, but the noise was too loud. She tried again, this time much louder, and he nodded, taking hold of her hand once again. He led her through the crowd, pushing people out of the way as the pair made their way to Beth's next class.

They arrived in no time at all, and Beth stared up at him as he finally released her small hand that had become clammy in his grasp. He smiled down at her and she smiled back up at him.

"Thank you for helping me." Beth said, her face flushing with embarrassment.

"It was no trouble at all." He turned to leave, but then stopped and turned back toward her. "Listen, I was wondering if you weren't busy this weekend…"

Beth's breath caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to say something, but found that she couldn't say anything. She was frozen there, waiting for him to finish his proposal.

"What I mean," he stumbled slightly over his words and glanced away from her, "You know, if you wanted, we could go…see a movie?"

Beth knew it was her time to speak, but she still couldn't make out the words. She wanted to explain how no one had ever taken the time to help her like he had. She wanted to tell him that, for the first time, someone had made the fear go away. She wanted to tell him anything. But instead, she nodded furiously, with an awkward smile on her face.

"Great!" he smiled, "You're Beth right?"

Again she nodded.

"My name's Marty (Boy #25)." He said.

* * *

"You must have heard the things people say about him, Beth." Daisy (Girl #19) said exasperated.

"People say a lot of things." Beth replied, scooping some ice cream into her mouth. The television droned on before them, but neither was watching. This was how it was most times they got together. Sure, they had been really good friends once, but as Beth disappeared into the background, Daisy had begun to flourish. They had grown apart, as friends often do, but now their time together felt forced. Daisy would try to involve Beth in her social life, and Beth would refuse, both of the girls becoming frustrated with each other.

"He rapes girls, Beth." Daisy said, "This isn't some petty jealousy or something like that. He will hurt you."

"I know we aren't the friends we used to be, Daisy," Beth said, "But I thought you would have been happy for me. You know I don't get many dates."

"This guy isn't looking for a date. He's dangerous. And you're running right into his trap, just because he's the first guy in a long time to give you some attention."

Beth winced from Daisy's stinging words. She gazed over at the girl who stared intensely at her, and then stared over at the television.

"You're not my friend. You're just a liar who wants me to be alone for the rest of my life."

Daisy's mouth dropped. She glanced over at the television, watching the show for a moment, and then stood up from the couch. She wiped a tear away from her eye and left Beth alone in the house. Beth silently let her go.

* * *

"I don't think I ever laughed so hard." Beth smirked from the passenger seat of Marty's car.

"That scene was hilarious." He smiled in response. The lampposts continued along the dark road, lighting the way for the pair. Silence settled over the two of them, and Beth stared out the window, ignoring the awkwardness of the moment and instead enjoyed it. She wouldn't admit it to him, but this was her first official date, and the excitement was almost too much for her to handle. The small girl was beaming.

"Uh oh." Marty said, his face now covered with concern.

"What's wrong?" Beth said, looking over at him. Marty carefully pulled the car over to the side of the road between two lampposts. The light shone before them and behind them, but that left the inside of the car hidden in the shadows.

"Car's stalling. I'll let it rest for a second and then I'll try to start it up again."

The two sat in the darkness for a few minutes, Beth's heart beating out of her chest. She wanted to say something, to let him know that she wasn't afraid. He made her feel safe, and she wouldn't be scared as long as he was with her. Her face flushed, as her thoughts drifted to the possibilities. Maybe she might even get her first kiss out of this unlucky breakdown. She turned toward Marty to say something, when his fist flew into her face. She cried out in surprise as another punch hit her and her eyes watered over. He was suddenly upon her, pulling her pants off her body and avoiding her swinging arms.

"Stop struggling." He hissed into her ear, the smile on his face more menacing than warm. He reached into the glove compartment and produced a metallic knife. Beth gasped in surprise, but let her arms fall to her sides. The fear swelled inside her as Marty painfully pulled the clothes from her body, the knife carefully placed at her neck. He made a small cut right above her breast smirking horrifically and leaning in to breathe in the scent of her crimson blood, and the tears blinded her as he undid his pants. She gazed past him as he began to violate her, seeing droplets of water strike the windshield. The sky opened up, the water pouring onto the stopped vehicle in the middle of no where.

_

* * *

_

He lied to me.

She sobbed on the ground, the water surrounding her. She hated the rain. She could hear the droplets striking the metal frame of Marty's car as she collapsed to the muddy forest floor. Beth reached down, feeling the pain inside her body as she remembered the violation. She wanted to disappear into the background, wanted to be left alone as she blended in with everything else. She didn't want to prosecute Marty in court, she didn't want to talk about, and she didn't want to remember it. She just wanted it all to go away.

_They all lie._

Beth turned her head and saw the feet of someone else staring directly at her in the face. She screamed in fear and jumped back, glancing up at the figure before her. At first she thought it was him, back again to rape her once again, but her eyes focused and saw that it was Jeff (Boy #22). She sobbed openly, wiping the tears from her face and the drops of rain that continued to blind her.

"Please," she whispered as Jeff raised the gun, preparing to fire it into her arm. It was a lot easier to inflict pain with bullets – they were a lot more precise. This girl would suffer a great deal before she died. He would not wait to listen to her pleas. They all asked him to spare them the pain. They all deserved it.

"Please," she stared directly into his cold eyes, "Please shoot me."

Jeff's brow furrowed. He stared down at the petite girl before him.

"Please, stop the lies. They all lie. They all lie." She said at his feet. She cringed as the rain soaked her through and through. Jeff stared down at the girl, watching her with all of his attention. He watched the way she shook when she cried. The way she asked for death.

"Shoot me." Beth pleaded, "I can't take the lies anymore. I don't want any more lies."

Jeff lowered his gun. Despite the chilling effect the rain had on his body, the scar in the middle of his chest burned fiercely. His free hand traced a line up to his chest, and he touched the wound, felt its warmth.

_I know what it's like to ask for death._

"Please," Beth sobbed, her voice now hoarse from all the crying she had done.

_You have suffered enough._

Jeff raised the gun and pulled the trigger only once. The loud sound was easily drowned out by the deafening sound of the rain striking the area all around them. The bullet ripped through her forehead and exploded out the back of her head, carrying with it blood and pieces of grey matter. Her small figure collapsed to the ground no longer trembling from the cold. Or the fear.

Jeff sighed deeply, placing the gun into an open pocket that was not occupied by his eye mace or his hand scythe. Sure, he could have added to the girl's pain, but it's not until people seek the solace of death that they have felt enough pain. Only when living becomes too much for them would Jeff allow them to perish. Only after they felt the way Jeff had, could he be allowed to alleviate their pain.

Jeff took one last look at the girl before him, before he turned away and glanced at his watch. It was almost noon. Another announcement would be on the way.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 48, 50, 56, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: none

(14) Contestants remaining


	46. Announcements part 6

"_Good afternoon, contestants! It's officially the halfway mark of this season of The Program! That's right, only another thirty six hours before every single collar goes off. But more importantly than that, it's only a little more than twelve hours before the record! Those of you who are looking to beat the record for The Program will have to be a little more effective, since there are still plenty of people left in the playing field. But don't be discouraged, little warriors! Nearly three quarters of this season's contestants are gone, which means that the odds of your survival have greatly increased since this whole game began. And if your performance up to this point continues, we may very well have a new record on our hands! Your consistency has not wavered, contestants, and in the last six hours we have had six deaths. The first to go was Girl #6 – Terri, taken out by that very large explosion that was impossible to miss. She may get the award for most spectacular death, barring unforeseen performances later, that is. The next to go was the very promising Boy #3 – Carlos. It took him a little longer to jump on The Program bandwagon, but he decided to play, just like we expected. Unfortunately, his first would-be kill ignited that house and left him as an easy target. It's too bad, really. He had the potential to win the whole thing. In any case, next up we have the lovely Girl #5 – Luna. This one also displayed plenty of promise, but very little follow through. Oh well, she wasn't a very big loss, since there are still plenty of lovely young ladies remaining. Moving on, we have the very obnoxious Girl # 15 – April. From what I've seen from her performance, I'm surprised that one of her friends didn't take her out once she started flapping her mouth. She got what was coming to her, however. The next death on my list is Girl #11 – Naomi. I must say that this contestant was very entertaining to watch. She started as many self righteous bitches do, against The Program and everything it stands for, only to end up as one of the many people succumbing to it. 'No one escapes The Program' - words to live by, little warriors! In any event, the final death of this announcement is Girl #1 – Beth. This girl lasted much longer than even I anticipated, but you can't always bet on long shots. Despite her superior weaponry, some contestants just don't have what it takes to win, isn't that right little warriors? Those are the names of the dead for this set of announcements. The girls have taken a major hit in the last six hours, since five of the six deaths were female. It's time kick it up a notch, ladies. I know it's raining, but don't let that discourage you! Just keep picturing that finish line and murder anyone you see trying to beat you there. Now would be a good time to announce the new danger zones. Immediately following this set of announcements, block 58 will become a danger zone, so if you're relaxing on the beach, you better high tail it out of there before you won't be able to move at all. In two hours from now at two in the afternoon, block 43 becomes a danger zone. Be warned, little warriors, the zones are slowly moving toward the center of the playing field, so be careful when moving around. In four hours from now, at four this afternoon, block 23 will become a danger zone. If you survive for another six hours, you'll hear my voice again at six tonight, informing those who are left of the new danger zones and how many of their friends have died. Keep those blades swinging and those guns firing – it'll all be over soon."_

* * *

Thunder echoed loudly throughout the playing field. Three figures streaked through the forest, blindly swiping at the branches that blocked their path. The smallest one was in the front, easily detecting the slightest openings among the vegetation, despite the blinding torrent of rain. He suddenly emerged on the beach, looking out at the ocean but only seeing the haze of the rain before him. The sound of millions of droplets striking the ocean drowned out the crashing waves. Lightning streaked across the sky, and Minh (Boy #6) guessed that it wasn't a good idea to be out in the open holding his metallic shotgun.

Nathan (Boy #19) was the next to emerge from the woods, the water pouring down his face and temporarily blinding him if he didn't blink the drops away. Ariana (Girl #18) was directly behind him, her hair straight and matted against her head. Her shirt soaked up plenty of water, which proved that she was not, in fact, wearing a bra. Her skirt held tightly against her skin and she felt the annoying chafe from the movement of running against the fabric. She picked the skirt off her skin for a temporary moment of relief, and then scanned the open area for shelter. She hadn't expected to find any on the beach, since this area was known for its lack of cover. But to her surprise, she spotted a small shack just barely visible through the curtain of water.

Ariana called out and pointed to it with her tire iron. Both of the boys with her noticed the tiny house as well, and Minh quickly pulled the map from his duffel bag. He glanced at it and then shoved it back into his bag before it could get any wetter. He nodded twice to inform his companions it was not located in a danger zone and the three sprinted toward the shanty. Nathan reach it first, pulling the door open so that his two companions could enter and then entered himself, slamming the door shut behind him. This tiny shed had been emptied of everything it contained, which probably had been fishing and boating gear, and this left plenty of room for the three kids to stretch out and dry off.

Each person grabbed a corner of the shack, and the two boys sat down to catch their breaths. Ariana attempted to wring out her shirt, but that didn't work very well, so she removed her top, effectively squeezing most of the water from it. Minh's eyes bulged when Ariana's breasts were suddenly out for anyone to see, and he turned away out of politeness. Nathan also noticed, and after taking in an eyeful, he removed his gaze as well. Ariana noticed both of the boys refusing to look at her, and she smiled playfully.

"What's the matter, boys? First time seeing a naked girl?" she teased, "I thought in present company it'd be okay for me to dry out my clothes this way."

"It doesn't bother me." Minh said, returning his gaze to her as if to prove he was not afraid to see her naked body. Nathan returned his gaze too, unconsciously staring at the two pink rings that seemed to be staring back at him. He shook his head as Ariana slowly reached down and pulled off her skirt as well. She looked above her and noticed a nail that was jutting out into the open air from one of the beams by the ceiling. She hung both articles on that nail and then carefully removed her panties as well. She stood stark naked before both boys, eying them both playfully.

Nathan carefully pulled his shirt over his head, and Minh turned toward him with an astonished expression, to which Nathan merely shrugged before finding his own nail to hang his clothes upon. Before Minh realized it, both of his companions were completely naked and their clothes dripped from the ceiling onto the cement floor. From her corner, Ariana eyed Nathan's package, and she giggled silently to find herself impressed with his size.

_Oh the things I could do for you, Nathan._

Minh, on the other hand, refused to follow suit, and sat in his corner, shivering from the cold rain soaking into his flesh. The shotgun shook along with him as he leaned against the wall for support, his eyes focused on the ground in front of him.

"Why so shy, Minh?" Ariana smirked as she slid to the ground into a curled ball spreading her legs to display her pink womanhood, "There's no reason to be embarrassed – it was pretty cold in the rain."

The small Asian frowned at her, clearly not the first one to question his magnitude. He turned away from her so that no one would see the contempt in his eyes, continuing to shake from the cold.

"I don't know why you want to see my cock so bad," Minh replied with an intense glare, "Because unless you got one of your own inside that abyss you call a pussy, I'm not interested."

Ariana smirked, aware that the boy was not going to let her get away with anything. Still, it was very obvious that he was uncomfortable, and that made everything fine with her. She could deal with discomfort, it was when Minh pointed that thing at her that things got risky. And even though she could sense how much he wanted to rid her from his presence, Nathan's existence prevented Minh from doing anything rash. Minh continued to glance away from both of his nude allies, and Ariana was not surprised at all when he suddenly stood up.

"I have to go take a shit." He said simply without looking at either of them, and then quickly exited into the sheet of water.

_I don't have much time. I better make this good._

Ariana suddenly stood up and approached Nathan, staring down at him past her voluptuous breasts. She could have killed him if she wanted, but he didn't have the shotgun. And it wasn't like she could hide his body. No, killing Nathan at that moment was not the best strategy. Instead, she'd drive another barrier between the two lovers. She'd already sparked some suspicion between them – how about a little jealousy? Nathan gazed up at her, still a little embarrassed, but no longer having to glance away. She slowly knelt and sat next to him, gazing off into space.

"Minh's such a little cutie," she remarked softly, "But I don't think he likes me very much."

"Minh has trouble trusting people in general. This game we're in only makes things harder for him." Nathan said.

"But you trust me." Ariana said as she leaned forward to stare at him in the face.

"Sure, why wouldn't I?" Nathan replied, gazing at her directly into the eyes. Ariana stared at him for a moment, watching his eyes slowly drift downward, for only a moment, and then back up to hers. She smiled knowingly.

_Don't be afraid to look. If you want, it can be all for you._

"You're so sweet." Ariana cooed and leaned forward, planting a kiss directly on Nathan's lips. His eyes opened wide with surprise and he gently pushed her away.

"Ariana, I can't. Minh-" he started.

"It's okay, he doesn't have to know."

"But, you don't understand, I-"

His breath left him as he felt a soft grip between his legs. He gazed down to see Ariana's gentle touch send a rush of warmth through his body, and he shivered from the large temperature change. Nathan made to reach down to remove her hand, when he felt the soft massaging of his limb.

"You like it. I can tell." Ariana cooed as she felt the organ becoming firm in her hand. Nathan gazed up to the ceiling, feeling himself being taken away. He focused solely on her, letting her send him to another place, far away from The Program, far away from all this horror and pain. He felt the ecstasy race through his body, but despite it he wanted to tell her to stop, to tell her that this wasn't right. But his voice refused to say anything as Ariana's professional hands went to work. Try as he might, he couldn't help feeling that _maybe_ this was right. Maybe…all those speakers from all those retreats…had been right.

The door to the shanty suddenly swung open and a dour and drenched Minh emerged from the doorway, his eyes moving around the room to the pair in what had been Nathan's corner. His mouth dropped for a moment, the disbelief almost too much for him to handle, but the look of surprise was quickly replaced with a look of pure rage.

"What the fuck is this!" he screamed, the shotgun flying up into both of his hands. Ariana released her grip and scrambled away, pretending to whimper from fear. But she wasn't afraid. Nathan wouldn't let anything to happen to her, especially not after what had just happened between them. The shotgun followed her crawling body and Minh's finger edged toward the trigger.

"Minh, stop!" Nathan called out, but the small Asian didn't hear him.

"Stupid bitch!" Minh screeched and he pulled the trigger just as Nathan tackled him to the floor. The pellets raced directly over Ariana's head, nearly taking parts of it with them. The two boys struggled on the ground for a moment until Minh kicked Nathan off of him, aiming the shotgun at the boy's face.

A cold chill drifted in from the open door as water splashed onto the cement floor of the tiny shack. Minh's finger edged once again toward the trigger and Ariana watched with supreme interest. She didn't very much care if Minh killed Nathan or not, but nothing would stop the tiny boy from aiming the gun at her next, and that was a dilemma she was not particularly equipped for. She slowly edged toward her duffel bag that contained her weapons…

Minh stared down the barrel of the gun, deep into the eyes of the boy he loved. He snarled with rage so that tears of sadness would not run down his face. He recalled that night they had met, staring out over the frozen lake, feeling Nathan's presence along with his own. That presence was gone now, and Minh couldn't help but feel its loss in all its entirety.

"Outside." Minh said, lowering the gun and grabbing his duffel bag. He grasped Nathan's arm and dragged the naked boy into the rain, closing the door behind them. For a moment, neither boy said anything as the water poured all over them. Nathan shook from the sudden chill, the goosebumps jumping up all over his body. Minh was the first to break the silence.

"Anything to say in your defense?" he said.

Nathan opened his mouth to explain what had happened, but found that once again, words had decided to avoid him. What could he say? He almost didn't know what had happened himself. One minute he was all alone in his corner, the next thing he knew, some girl threw his sexual identity into his face and nearly got him off. He almost didn't know what he could possibly say to explain what had happened. Nathan closed his mouth and stared down at the sand between his feet.

"You don't have to worry about me going on a shooting rampage anymore. I'm not going to shoot you or…her." Minh scowled over at the shack, but the shotgun remained at his side. Nathan remained silent.

"But I can't stay here with you."

"Minh, I-"

"You said," Minh interrupted him, "That I didn't have to be alone. That you understood me."

Nathan stopped breathing. Minh's words cut him deeply, and the pressure refused to let any air into his lungs. He remembered seeing Minh standing on the edge of that lake, watching the fear and insecurity pour from the small boy. That boy still stood before him, the fear and insecurity returning full force. Nathan stared at the small Asian before him, unable to comprehend what was happening to him.

_Oh my God. I've just made the biggest mistake of my life._

"Minh, please don't leave. I'm sorry. Please don't leave." Nathan finally found his voice, but immediately after talking, felt it catch in his throat.

"I have to." Minh replied. His face contorted in the rain, and Nathan wasn't sure if he was crying or not. "You made a choice. And now I've made mine."

Nathan instantly cringed at the sound of that phrase.

_Choice._

It reminded of those numerous "retreats" he was forced to go on. It reminded him of those horrible speeches telling him that he could decide what he wanted in life. It reminded him of when he met Minh, the small Asian looking exceptionally vulnerable by that frozen lake. But more than anything else, it reminded him of something else, something that had happened to him so long ago he had forgotten it. Or maybe he had blocked it from his memory. It was that phrase Minh had used. It had triggered…

* * *

"You've made your choice, and now I've made mine." The surly man brought the gun closer to Nathan's head. He was no more than five, perhaps even four, staring wide eyed at his parents on the opposite side of the room. They both were quivering in fear, surrounded by the unconscious bodies of policemen. Nathan's young mind could not comprehend what was happening to his family, but he could tell by his parents' faces that he should be scared. And he was.

"Please, don't hurt my son." Nathan's father pleaded.

"You should have thought about that before you tried hacking into the government's security network!" the man with the gun spat back. Nathan noticed that he wore a uniform like the other men on the ground. He was a policeman too? But the television shows always had the police as the good people!

"Please," Nathan's mother managed to say before losing herself to sobs again.

"Hacking into secret files is enough to get you a life sentence, Mr. --." The policeman smirked, "But resisting arrest hammers the nails into your coffin. You have made your choice."

Nathan's father showed no signs of contemplation over the policeman's words, but instead focused all his attention on the immediate threat to his son. Nathan turned his head and stared into the barrel of the gun, and then up to the policeman who smiled down at the young boy. He didn't like that smile, and so he turned away, feeling more tears fall from his eyes.

"But now, I can make mine." The bad cop replied. He smiled widely and with an evil twinkle in his eye, "You see, we weren't sure if you were the hacker. We're currently raiding three other homes, one of which is his." The policeman pointed with his gun over to one of the unconscious officers. "He wasn't aware of this you see, which is why he's on your raid. It's very apparent now that he was not the hacker, since it's you, but if I say it is him, then you and your lovely wife and your little boy all get to live in peace."

Nathan's parents gazed at each other for a moment, both wondering what the catch of this situation would be. Then they returned their glares over to the policeman holding their son hostage. Nathan's mother wiped the tears from her eyes and hope seemed to creep into her face for the first time since the raid had begun.

"Why would they believe you? All of these other men were witnesses." Nathan's father said suspiciously.

The bad cop smirked and then pulled the trigger three times, each one entering the head of an unconscious cop. Nathan's mother shrieked in fear and covered her face as brain matter and debris showered over her and her husband.

"Dead men tell no tales." The cop smirked, "I can say that he attacked us all, killing those two officers until I took him down. I have a friend in the autopsy room. One who won't ask the wrong questions. But now the stakes are higher. Killing cops is an automatic death penalty for your entire family. So you see, you better think very carefully over my proposal."

"And what is that, exactly?" Nathan's father asked. The young boy could see his father's eyes dart around the room for some kind of means of saving his son, but nothing proved to be worth the risk of the bullet ripping through the young boy's head. Nathan cringed in the man's unfamiliar grasp, and wanted to wriggle free, but something told him that he should stay where he was.

"Well, you see, I haven't got my nuts off in a while-"

"I'll do it." Nathan's mother interrupted, picking a piece of skull from her face, "You can do whatever you want to me if you let my son go."

"That's very kind of you, Mrs. --." The cop chuckled deep in his throat, "But you see, I think your son's more my type."

"WHAT!" Nathan's father roared. The man jumped to his feet and two three menacing steps toward the policeman. The cop shoved the barrel of the gun into Nathan's forehead as he dragged him back one step and the boy started to cry.

"SIT DOWN!" the cop shouted back. Nathan's father's eyes seethed hate as he stood still for a moment, and then slowly made his way back down to the floor. "You've made your choice. And now I've made mine!" The cop stated, "It seems you have one more to make Mr. --. Either your son and I get to play 'Eat the Popsicle' or you all die. Your decision."

Nathan's mother began to sob again. Nathan's father's hands balled into fists from where he sat on the ground. He looked like his head was about to explode, but slowly his head drooped down before him. He swung his hands into his face and cried without abandon.

"Daddy?" Nathan whimpered as the cop slid his meaty hand down the front of the boy's pants. Nathan shifted uncomfortably and whined softly.

"It's okay, little boy," the policeman smirked and he moved his around inside Nathan's pants before grasping his own, and slowly dropping the lower half of his uniform. "You love your parents, don't you kid?"

Nathan nodded as he stared up at the policeman before him.

"Good, then you better do what I say. Because if you don't, then your parents die. Do you understand?"

* * *

Nathan doubled over on the beach, vomiting up the small contents of his stomach. He could still feel the terror he had felt then, felt the pain of everything that had happened to him with his parents only a few feet away. He continued to vomit until his stomach acid made its way up his esophagus and out onto the sand.

"Nathan?" Minh asked, looking down at the boy at his feet. He watched as the boy wretched, feeling himself slowly reach out to him. He quickly snapped his arm back, realizing that the longer he stayed around Nathan, the harder it would be to leave him. Minh took a step back as Nathan wiped the burning liquid from his lips.

_I can't get distracted. I can't forget what he did to me._

Minh covered his mouth as a sob finally made its way through his open lips, and he spun around, running away from the tiny shack, the sand jumping up behind his running feet. The tears fell from his face onto the sand behind him, the emotions that were ripping his heart apart screaming inside his head to go back. But he couldn't go back. Nathan had betrayed him, and nothing could make that okay.

"No!" Nathan screamed reaching toward the disappearing figure of Minh, his throat still burning. He dry heaved on the ground, the pressure on his head squeezing tears from his eyes. He began to sob on the ground, his mind tormented by the suppressed memories of his youth and the loss of the only boy he had ever loved. The rain chilled his body to his bones, but his body shook as he pictured the face of that disgusting policeman and his throaty laugh.

"NOOOOO!" Nathan screamed at the top of his lungs, feeling hopelessly lost for the first time in a very long time. He fell to sand, the tiny rocks sticking all over his body just as quickly as they were washed away.

_Minh…Please, don't leave me now. I searched so long for you. I need you now more than I've ever needed anyone. Please come back._

Nathan lay there for twenty minutes, crying until he couldn't cry any longer. His eyes stung from his salty tears. His throat and stomach burned from the acid that had made its way out of his body. His body ached from the horrific memories that racked it. And his heart had broken into many pieces. Slowly, he lifted himself off the ground, the sound of the rain muffled by the soft sand. Nathan climbed to his knees and then up to his feet, feeling more like a hollow shell than a human being.

He walked over to the small shack, swinging open the door, staring down at the ground. He clutched his naked body with his bare arms, and resumed his spot in his corner, covering his face in his hands and sobbing into them, much like his father had done long ago. Both men recognized it was the only thing they could do at that moment.

"Minh's gone, huh?" Ariana asked. Nathan nodded without looking up. A strange snapping noise reached his ears and he finally raised his head to see that Ariana was fully clothed once again. In her hands she held Nathan's playing cards, shuffling them as she gazed over at him with a strange smile that frightened him, because it reminded him of that evil cop. He looked over to where his dagger had been sitting to find that it was missing.

"Looking for this?" Ariana held up the dagger from where she had placed it near her bag. Nathan didn't say anything as he watched her spin it around in one of her hands. Another chill raced through his body, although this one wasn't from the cold.

"From what you've told me about your performance in The Program, you've been pretty lucky." Ariana cooed, "Let's see how lucky you are now."

She threw a single playing card at him and he watched it spin in the air, flipping around and around, landing face down at his feet. He gazed up at her as she continued to shuffle the cards on the opposite side of the room. Nathan carefully picked up the card and glanced at it, the large black card staring back at him.

"The ace of spades." Nathan muttered.

_The death card._

In an instant, Ariana flew across the room, the dagger outstretched. She shoved it through the playing card in the boy's hand and continued it on its path, striking Nathan directly in the chest, literally splitting the boy's broken heart into two. He jolted twice, staring at the girl who had murdered him, her smile resonating of that evil man who had traumatized him so long ago.

"The shotgun's gone." She hissed through her smile, "You've lost your usefulness to me."

_I've just made the biggest mistake of my life._

Nathan's eye twitched as spit and some vomit slid from his dangling mouth. His body continued to spasm even after Ariana pulled the blade from his body. The sliced playing card slowly slid down his body, the blood making its trip slower than normal. Ariana moved across the room and pulled the ice pick from her duffel bag, placing it in where it belonged – hidden in her panties. She wiped the dagger on Nathan's clothes that hung from the ceiling. She kept the tire iron in her bad arm, which seemed to be doing a lot better, and held the dagger in the other hand.

Ariana knew that she needed to hurry if she was going to find Minh and his powerful gun. He was probably long gone, but the raindrops would not wash away his footprints. In fact, this weather would actually help her find the small Asian. She'd stuck around these two gay boys in order to get that shotgun, and even though one was dead, she still wanted that weapon. She deserved it, if only for putting up with the both of them.

The deadly girl opened the girl to the shack, watching the rain fall like a giant sheet of water. She stopped and gazed over at the corpse of Nathan, the naked body no longer twitching. She extended a hand out and another playing card seemed to appear from no where as if by magic. She stared down at it before flicking her wrist and sending the card over to the body. It flipped face up, covering the blood soaked and sliced ace of spades. The queen of hearts smiled prettily from where it lay on the cement floor.

"Thanks for the ride, Nathan." Ariana curtsied with her skirt before racing out into the storm.

After a long hiatus, Girl #18 was back in the game.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 48, 50, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 23, 43

(13) Contestants remaining


	47. When It Rains, It Pours

Jeff (Boy #22) walked slowly through the torrent. His body was covered in a layer of cold rain that would have chilled him deep into his bones if he wasn't completely numb already. The heavy drops impacted his flesh, and soaked the shirt wrapped around his upper torso, but he shrugged off the discomfort. There were still plenty of contestants that needed to suffer within the playing field, despite the dwindling numbers as described by the recent announcements.

The boy pushed some branches out of his way and squinted through the falling water. Despite the sheets of falling rain, Jeff could see that he had emerged in a circular opening of sorts. He sneezed and then wiped his nose with his forearm, gazing around him for any other contestants. He saw none, but instead spotted something strange in the center of the open space. Jeff took a few cautious steps toward it and then stopped, taking in the full sight before him.

Technically, it was a tree, but by normal standards, this was no ordinary tree. It appeared to be partially split down the middle. One side looked like any other tree with crisp green leaves and it appeared to be bearing some kind of fruit, although Jeff couldn't recognize it on sight. The other half appeared to be dead - its branches gnarled and twisted reaching up to the heavens.

Jeff stared up at the monstrosity, feeling himself drawn towards it.

_Good and evil._

The words seemed to pop into his head from no where, but instantly he understood what he was looking at. It was the duality that existed within people. The life-giving goodness. The deadly evil. This tree was the epitome of the struggle of humankind. The struggle of Jeff.

Jeff wondered what could have caused something like this to come about. What kind of disaster could kill half a living creature, but leave the other half undisturbed. Maybe the barren circle surrounding the tree held the answer, but the best answer Jeff could come up with was that it was hit by lightning. He was pretty sure that he'd heard of other such occurrences somewhere, but it made sense to him regardless of his uncertain sources. Lightning strikes so infrequently - it's nearly a statistical improbability that something get hit by a lightning strike, and those values probably decrease to almost zero of the object surviving the blast. Clearly everything else around the tree had perished from it, or maybe it was the tree's fault that nothing was growing around it anymore. Jeff stared at the large plant before him, nearly awed at its resolve to continue living.

_This tree…is me…_

The boy felt himself drawn even closer to the oddity before him. He couldn't deny the connection any longer. The sky rumbled above them as he took another step closer.

"We are both the consequence of something beyond us." Jeff spoke out loud to the tree, "Bad luck mostly, but definitely the malice of others as well. You try to bear as much fruit as you can to save yourself, but your dead half is trying to drag you into the ground."

Jeff stood a few inches away from the tree now. He gazed up at its contrasting branches in wonder and amazement. His scar burned in his chest, but he disregarded the pain, looking up at the scar from the split in the center of the tree. His breaths started to come more rapidly for some reason, and Jeff decided not to ask why.

_You and I are one and the same._

Jeff slowly reached out to the tree.

_Please, help me with my pain._

The sky erupted as the crack of thunder seemed to precede the blinding light it echoed. Jeff felt the air rush away from the area around him and then felt the imaginary arms of the winds pulling him back. He tried to scream, but his voice was drowned out by the explosion that had occurred so close to his body. He struck a tree on the boundary of the clearing and then plummeted to the ground. Physical pain racked his aching body as he stared up where the tree had stood a moment before. Burning pieces of wood lay strewn about on the ground and squashed fruit bled its juices, a large hole now in the place where the tree had once been. Jeff's scar burned deeply as tears slowly filled the boy's eyes. Jeff didn't know the probability of lightning striking the same place twice, but it had, and it had nearly taken Jeff along with the tree of good and evil.

Jeff gasped for air, his body shaking from the slight shock that racked through it. His eyes watered over, not that anyone could tell from the pouring rain that was slowly extinguishing the small fires on the remnants of the tree. He grasped at his scar, trying to ease the pain that soared through his body, but nothing worked. Slowly, the pain ran its course as Jeff writhed on the ground in agony. He hugged himself tightly, the semiautomatic gun still in his hand, as he stared at the scene once again.

And despite his effort not to, the boy's mind wandered into his memories.

* * *

"It's not like I like you or anything." A twelve year old Jeff glanced up from what he was doing to look at the boy who had just spoken to him. He winced slightly to see who it was, but kept his attention.

"But I'm having a birthday party this Saturday." The boy sneered, "And my mom's making sure I invite everyone in the class, and that includes you." He slowly extended a colorfully decorated piece of paper toward Jeff, who hesitantly grabbed it, unsure of whether this was just another cruel prank.

"A birthday party?" Jeff murmured.

"Yeah, dumbass," the boy replied, "You know what a party is, don't you?"

Jeff nodded and then said, "Yeah, I do, Johnny."

"Good." Johnny scowled, "And just so you know, just because I invited you, doesn't mean that you have to go."

Jeff knew that Johnny didn't want him to go, and that he'd do everything in his power to ruin the experience for Jeff, but Jeff didn't care. A birthday party? He hadn't been to one in so long! The last one had been his own, and since no one had shown up, that one didn't really count. And besides, with Johnny's mother there, he couldn't get away with everything, which meant that it was already a thousand times better than school. A day of very little bullying? And games? And cake? Sounded like a great day to Jeff. He wasn't going to miss this.

"Do I have to let you know if I'm going to go or not?" Jeff said as Johnny turned to leave. The boy spun back around so quickly that Jeff winced in his seat, expecting to get hit with a handful of paper balls or a rubber band or something. Ever since he'd been hit in the eye with a rubber band from across the room, it had become a favorite of everyone to see if they could match Johnny's sharp shooting skills. And while some had come close, no one had hit Jeff's eye in a while, which he was thankful for.

Slowly, Johnny smiled his wide smile that Jeff had learned to fear. "Actually, you don't have to do anything. All you have to do is show up at this address." Johnny took Jeff's pen and wrote it on the piece of paper that Jeff was writing on. Jeff was going to stop him from writing all over his homework, but he was too excited about the idea of a party that he forgot all about that sheet of answers. Jeff stared down at the address as Johnny attempted to write something dirty on Jeff's hand. He pulled it away, getting a long black mark.

"Isn't that in the middle of that run down neighborhood?" Jeff asked.

"I live in that run down neighborhood!" Johnny yelled. Jeff jumped in fear and recoiled, murmuring an apology. Johnny looked like his was going to hit Jeff, but then stopped, smiling again. "Just be there at noon, okay? A bus is coming to pick us all up and take us the amusement park the next town over."

"Your party is at the amusement park?" Jeff squealed with more delight than he intended. He blushed as other students around him giggled at him.

"It sure is. You can be dropped off there, and your parents can pick you up at eight that night."

"Great!" Jeff smiled widely. Johnny turned away before glancing back one last time.

"Oh, and by the way, your present better not suck."

* * *

Jeff sat in the passenger seat of the car as his father drove him to the meeting spot. In his hands he held his present, a tiny wrapped square. It didn't look like much, but in reality, it was the rarest of the trading cards that was all the rage at that time. It was estimated to be over a thousand dollars, and the best thing that Jeff owned at that moment. Johnny would love the present. And who knew – maybe then Jeff wouldn't get picked on by so many kids at school.

"I'm glad you're going to this party, son." Jeff's father remarked.

"Me too, Dad." Jeff replied with a wide smile.

"I told you if you stood up to those kids, they'd include you as their friend." He said. Jeff thought back to the many conversations he'd had with his father over the bullying in school. And every time it happened, Jeff's father would get angry at Jeff, telling him that it was his own fault that they picked on him. The only way to make them stop was to stand up to them, he had said. And whether what was true or not, Jeff couldn't find it in him to do that. And so he'd stopped telling his parents when he got picked on. It wasn't anything that he couldn't handle. Jeff became slightly lethargic remembering how angry his father had been, and he felt a slight twinge in the middle of his chest, a burning of sorts. He rubbed at it, but then ignored it, imagining the great day ahead of him.

"Are you sure this is the place?" his father asked as they pulled up to the intersection. Jeff looked down at his ruined homework and then nodded to his father, stepping out of the car. He looked to his left and to his right, but didn't see any of his classmates.

"No one else is here." His father said, making the same connection as Jeff, "Do you want me to wait?"

Jeff pictured the taunts he would get when everyone else arrived and saw that Jeff was waiting with his father. The less ammunition he gave them, the better. Jeff looked down the street and saw two kids around his age coming his way.

"Those two guys are in my class." Jeff said pointing to the two strangers, "You can leave."

"Okay, son. Here's forty dollars in case they expect you to pay for yourself." Jeff's father handed over the two large bills and then said, "Have a good time." And he was gone. The two kids passed by Jeff just as his father turned the corner and was gone. Jeff looked up and down the street again, then down at his watch. He was early by fifteen minutes – they'd all show up soon. Jeff sat down on a nearby bench and waited, his perfect day running through his head.

The minutes passed by slowly, but not nearly as slowly as the hours did. It was about three in the afternoon when Jeff convinced himself that no one else was coming. He fumbled the wrapped trading card in his hands as the thoughts of roller coasters, cotton candy, fun houses, and Ferris wheels slowly drifted out of his mind. Instead, he pictured Johnny and all the rest of his classmates, eating cake in a circle talking about how Jeff was sitting in the middle of no where. The twinge he had felt in his chest was now back with a vengeance, burning a little bit more than it had before.

"Hey, kid." A man slowly sat down next to Jeff on the bench. Jeff didn't acknowledge him, partly out of fear and partly because he wanted to be left alone. He felt a strong hand placed on his shoulder, and Jeff immediately accepted defeat.

"Do you have any spare change, boy?" the man asked. Jeff slowly reached into his pocket and pulled the forty dollars his father had given him. He gazed up at the man, whose malicious smile disappeared once Jeff looked at him straight in the eye.

"Here." Jeff said handed over the money. The man frowned but took the money and stood up. He looked like he wanted to run away, but something forced him to keep staring into the apathetic face of the boy near him. The man blinked twice and slowly began to walk away.

"Wait." Jeff said and extended his brightly colored wrapped trading card. "Do you have any kids, mister?"

The man stopped and spun around, once again engaged with the boy near him. He walked back and sat back down next to Jeff, staring at the tiny square. The man sighed deeply, gazing off into space as Jeff continued to stare between his feet.

"I used to have a son." The man replied, "You know, kid, you look a little like him." Jeff stared over at him, the apathetic stare covering his face, the burn deep in his chest.

"You can give him this too." Jeff said, handing over the trading card. The man took the small square and unwrapped it, looking down at the very valuable trading card.

"You know what? I will give this to him, the next time I see him." The man stood up, placing the trading card in his wallet. He pulled the forty dollars he had taken from Jeff and gave it back to the boy. "I won't need this, kid." Jeff grabbed the bills and slid them back into his pocket, his gaze once again returning to the ground between his feet. He heard the man leave.

The sun slowly slid behind the buildings and the stars found their chance to shine. And just as the street lights began to shine, Jeff's father pulled up to his son seated on the bench.

"Everyone else was picked up already?" his father asked as Jeff pulled open the car door and sat down in the passenger seat.

Jeff nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Sorry, I didn't think I was running late." Jeff's father looked behind him so that he could merge back into traffic, "You weren't scared all by yourself, were you?"

Jeff shook his head silently. He pulled the money from his pocket and handed it back to his father.

"Oh, so they paid for you?" Jeff's father asked and placed the bills back into his wallet. He looked over at his son, who was occupied with the passing images outside the window.

"Did you have a good time?"

Jeff sighed quietly to himself, watching the figures race by the window as the car continued along the road. He could tell his father what had happened, but no doubt his father would be angry at him for just sitting on that bench for eight hours doing nothing. And his mother would be worried that he was alone in a dangerous part of the city. They wouldn't understand how disappointed he was. They obviously couldn't feel that burn in his chest, couldn't feel his pain.

"Yeah, Dad. It was great."

* * *

Jeff sat on the ground, his gaze directly on the ground before him. The disappointment he had felt then returned to him, feeling the pain burning in his chest. That was when he had started learning. The less you said, the less people asked. And when you said nothing, people practically left you alone. His family soon didn't ask anything about him, and so he didn't tell them. Why should he? They couldn't feel his pain. If they really cared about him, they would have felt his misery, would have helped him. But no one ever helped him. No one could feel his pain.

"Then I'll make them feel it." Jeff hissed softly. And slowly his anger turned to sadness. He hugged himself tightly, trying to shake the chills from the pouring rain and trying to comfort himself at the same time. Sometimes, the loneliness became too much for him, even though Jeff acknowledged that he was safe if he was alone. And so he allowed himself the luxury that he only practiced when he was completely alone.

He cried.

* * *

Leslie (Girl #25) was pissed off. Sure, it wasn't Connor's (Boy #4) fault that he could only move so quickly, and he was the one who found the right direction to move in, but the rain had come so quickly, and now they both were drenched. Connor had said that if they moved quick enough, they could avoid the rain. He had been wrong.

The rain came down in buckets, and Leslie felt like she was underwater. The trees provided little, if any, cover and she was stuck moving at that one slow pace out of fear of harming Connor by walking too quickly. One arm was wrapped around Connor's shoulder for support while the other was extended out in front of her, pushing away obstructions from their pathway.

"Just a little farther." Connor said over the pounding of the rain. Leslie nodded in response and she noticed Connor taking bigger strides with his good leg. He clearly understood that he was slowing them both down, and so Leslie decided not to bring it to his attention. She simply nodded and sighed, wiping some drops out of her eyes.

Both contestants stumbled as the Earth quaked beneath them and a deafening crack of lightning exploded from the sky. Connor recoiled slightly, but Leslie held her ground, unafraid. She shook off the blast as Connor lifted his head up to the sky. Rain poured into his eyes, but he squinted them away and held up his free hand to block the water. After a moment, he shrugged and returned his gaze ahead of the both of them.

"That felt really close." He said as they continued on, "I wonder if some place on the island was hit."

Leslie didn't reply as she pushed a branch up over both of their heads. Connor lifted his arm to help her.

"Wouldn't it be lucky if the school was hit?" Connor asked. Leslie hadn't considered that. If the school was destroyed, there wouldn't be any need to continued fighting. Maybe luck had decided to smile on them that day. However, it would be impossible to know if that were the case, since no one could go check on the school, which was directly in the center of a danger zone in the center of the playing field. Although, if there were no announcements, then that would probably be a good enough clue that the school was destroyed. But did that mean the collars still wouldn't work? And would everyone make the same conclusion? There were too many questions that Leslie couldn't answer. She decided she'd wait to see if the announcements happened, and then act accordingly.

Connor was doing his best to speed things up, since being wet was not high on his comfort scale. Wet clothes were the best way to get sick, and sickness was just another problem that could go wrong. They would have to wring out their clothes, which meant that some possibly awkward situations were coming up. He sighed and kept going. The sooner they found shelter, the better.

The pair suddenly emerged into a small opening. It was strange that such a vacant space would exist in the forest for apparently no reason, but suddenly, neither of them cared about it. Their attention was fixed on the figure they could make out on the opposite side of the space. He sat in a ball on the edge of the area, and from the look of him, he appeared to be slightly injured. It looked like he had burns on his shins, and his shirt was wrapped around his upper torso like a bandage. But more than either of those, Leslie and Connor could see that Jeff was holding a gun.

Jeff slowly looked up, tears running down his face. He sniffed once, and then his eyes widened as he noticed that he was no longer alone.

_Oh no!_

Connor was the first to speak. "Hi."

_They saw me cry! I'm…I'm vulnerable! They saw me cry!  
_  
The two of them took a step towards Jeff. Fear crept into his face as he attempted to slide back away from them.

"No, don't be afraid." Connor said, extending a hand.

_They saw my weakness! They'll try to hurt me! They saw me cry!  
_  
Jeff leapt to his feet, raising the gun at the couple before him. He cried out as he pulled the trigger several times. He ran off to the side, continuing to fire the gun at the two contestants who had since dropped to the ground.

_Run! Don't let them see my weakness! Don't let them know what you're thinking! Run!_

The gun ran out of bullets as Jeff plunged into the forest surrounding the small space and was gone. Leslie found herself on the ground, her body covered in mud. She felt a flash of pain coming from her left shoulder and she gazed over at it to see blood pouring from a wound on the edge of her flesh. It appeared that one of the bullets had simply grazed her, and was not lodged in her body. The wound may only have been flesh deep, but it still hurt like a bitch, and it was still an injury she'd have to deal with.

"Damn it!" Leslie cursed, upset that she had allowed herself to come so close to being killed. She should have known that he was playing, tears or not. The two of them couldn't just approach anyone they came across in The Program – it had nearly cost them their lives. Well, Leslie wasn't about to make that mistake again. If Connor still wanted to find more allies, then Leslie wouldn't complain. But they wouldn't make themselves targets anymore. They did this smart next time.

"Uh, Leslie?" Connor muttered next to her on the ground. Leslie placed her right hand on her wounded left shoulder and looked over at Connor.

"What?" she asked, before her eyes widened in shock, Connor lay on his back, head facing down toward his body. His hands had slowly lifted up his shirt to reveal a tiny hole just to the left of his belly button. Blood gurgled up and out of the bullet hole as Connor winced in pain. His breathing quickened as fear coursed through his body.

_Shot! I'm shot!_

"Calm down!" Leslie hissed, "If you get too excited then more blood will pump out of that wound."

Tears formed in Connor's eyes, as he nodded and tried to control his breathing. Leslie watched, helpless, as he finally regained his composure as more red liquid dripped from the tiny hole and was immediately washed away by the rain. Leslie realized that she too was getting anxious and she quickly removed the emotion from her body, trying her best to think logically.

"Okay…okay, so we can't move you." Leslie said. Connor turned his head and stared up at her face. "That'll make you lose more blood, and we need to keep as much as we can inside you."

Connor nodded, but the pain raced through his entire body, and it chilled him to his bones. He shook from the frost racing through him and Leslie immediately thought something was wrong. She crawled over to him and gripped his shoulders.

"Connor? Are you okay?" she asked, the anxiety creeping into her voice. Connor nodded, and murmured that he was cold. Leslie looked around her, but saw nothing that would ease the chilling rain.

"I'm sorry. I don't have anything to give you for that." Leslie said, her voice now filled with concern.

"That's okay." Connor replied and winced from the bullet still lodged in his body. Still not satisfied, Leslie looked around again, this time her eyes falling on her duffel bag. The water struck the side and then beaded up, rolling down the side and onto the ground. She quickly opened her bag and dumped out the remaining water bottles, food, and the large rope and blood stained hunting knife onto the ground. She unzipped it completely and opened it to its full capacity before draping it over Connor's torso. It didn't cover him all the way, but it would keep most of the water off of him. Connor murmured a "thank you" and tried his best to fight the chills running through his body. Leslie stared down at him, and then tore her eyes away, trying her best not to feel anything.

"Hopefully this rain will pass soon." Leslie said, looking up into the sky.

"Just," Connor began and Leslie stared down at him, "Don't leave me alone."

Leslie sighed. Everything had gone so wrong so quickly. Connor was shot, and who knew how long he'd last from that wound. It could be a few hours, or it could be a few days. Leslie didn't know how long it took someone to bleed to death from a gunshot wound. But one thing was clear – Connor was too injured to move. The two of them would have to remain in that opening. And even though neither of them wanted to think about it, it looked like Connor wasn't going to last the entirety of The Program.

* * *

Jeff ran blindly through the forest. He stepped into some mud that he thought was solid ground and twisted his ankle slightly. He cried out and fell to the ground, completely exhausted.

"They…saw me…cry…" he said between gasps of breath. He closed his eyes and saw them standing in front of him, taking it all in, watching the tears fall from his eyes, absorbing his weakness.

_No, they can't know my vulnerabilities. If they did, they'd use them to hurt me. If they found out what I was thinking, they'd use it against me. No one can know anything about me. My fears, goals, dreams, insecurities – all ammunition to cause me more pain!_

Jeff pulled his legs into his body, forming the perfect fetal position as the rain continued to pour upon the damaged boy. He continued to gasp for air, but he was done crying. No one would sneak up on him again. No one would discover his weaknesses. He wouldn't make that mistake again. No one could know who he was or what he believed in. All they would know was that he was the deliverer of pain. His pain would be theirs, and that's all they would be allowed to know.

_Dexter…_

Jeff opened his eyes. He stretched his legs out and rotated the ankle he had twisted. It hurt him a little, but it wasn't anything that would slow him down. He sat up from the ground and sighed, allowing his body to relax slightly. He pulled the zipper on his duffel bag and pulled out the bullets, carefully reloading the semiautomatic gun in his possession.

"That's why I have to be alone." He whispered to no one. The droplets of water exploded on contact with his skin, but he was too numb to feel them anymore. "They can't hurt me if they don't know me. I am safe when I'm alone."

Jeff stood up from the ground, many rivers of water rushing down his body. Most of the mud was easily washed away and his ankle had already stopped hurting. The boy stood tall as the sound of the rain echoed all around him. He felt tempted to go back and see if those two kids were still in the clearing, but he doubted that very much. Most contestants ran at the sound of gunshots and they were both long gone. Also, Jeff didn't want to go back to see the remnants of the tree that had been destroyed. Besides, he had some unfinished business. There was a name he hadn't heard be announced yet. And he didn't like loose ends.

Jeff disappeared into the forest.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 48, 50, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 23, 43

(13) Contestants remaining


	48. Fatigue

The water pounded against the window like it was trying to break it, but the clear glass held firm and kept the water outside, away from the two people sitting inside a single room. She continued to watch the droplets splash against the window and then stream down them. This process had always enticed her, even as a young girl. She loved rainy days for the sole reason of being able to watch the beads of water run down the glass surface, colliding with other moving or stationary drops of water or eventually making its way all the way down to the bottom of the surface, where its journey came to an end. In fact, the first time she'd gotten high, she'd focused all of her attention of those beads of water racing from gravity's influence, solely for her amusement. It had been a long time since she'd stopped and examined the running water like she once had. So much else got in the way.

Her parents got on her case more and more often, as she attempted to overcome their smothering personalities. Telling her to act a certain ways, bringing her to Church and shelters to volunteer. They said that forming good habits as a child would help her as a grown up, and that colleges loved résumés full of volunteer work. Hell, that was why she'd turned to drugs in the first place – it was the perfect way to escape her parents, who were constantly trying to control her every move. And the running water had done that same thing before hallucinogens were a part of the picture. If she wasn't doing anything wrong, then her parents would leave her alone if only for a little while before dragging her off to some other cause to prepare her for the future. And she could stare at the water for hours, appreciating their quick flowing movement and their silence. No one told them which way to fall. They knew where they would end up, and they chose their own way to get there. What was stopping her from doing the same thing?

Gloria (Girl #22) sighed and gripped her left arm. Her Uzi was still strapped over her right shoulder, which she felt was lucky, since her left arm was all but useless, and the strap gave her added support when aiming the powerful gun. Sure, the most recent two kills had been satisfying, but she was very damaged now, and the most powerful gun was all but useless when there was no ammo to fire. She was sure she still had plenty left in her only clip, but once that ran out, she was going to have to rely on the machete and two remaining grenades, which were currently in the possession of her boyfriend, Isaac (Boy #16). Sure, she did have that collar detector, but that would be useless in a fight, and it was malfunctioning slightly too. It only turned on when it felt like it, and could shut off at a moment's notice.

"How's your arm?" Isaac asked, noticing Gloria wincing as she clutched it. Gloria's eyes were pulled away from the window and she looked to her left where Isaac sat next to her. She smiled weakly.

"Still numb. Looks like it's out of commission for the rest of The Program."

"That sucks." Isaac responded, "That's going to be a problem in some of the fights we have coming up."

Gloria nodded, understanding what he meant. There were still plenty of threats walking around inside the playing field, and sooner or later, Gloria and Isaac would have to face them head on. And despite Gloria's desire to get revenge on Bruce (Boy #23) from his interference at that gas station and her intense drive to kill Kim (Girl #17) and finish the job she started so early in The Program, there was one battle that refused to leave her mind. It was the inevitable – only ONE survives.

"Isaac, have you been thinking about…the endgame?" Gloria murmured.

"Endgame?" Isaac asked, gazing over at her. Gloria had returned her stare to the window and the droplets of water that raced down to the Earth. "You mean, when it's only you and me left?"

"Yeah." Gloria replied. Isaac opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it. He glanced down at the hardwood floor in front of him, fighting back the pit forming in his stomach. He wasn't sure if Gloria was proposing some kind of match right here and now, but he wanted to be ready for an attack if she suddenly turned that Uzi on him. He couldn't understand why Gloria would want to do that, but Isaac didn't always know why Gloria did the things she did.

"I haven't thought about it." Isaac said, "I don't want to think about that yet. It…"

"It makes you want to betray me." Gloria said.

"No!" Isaac said, reaching down and grabbing hold of Gloria's hand before realizing it was her broken arm and releasing it.

"Look," Gloria began, "I don't want you to feel bad about having those kinds of feelings. In this kind of game, in our situation, it's only natural. You and I, we both want to live. If that wasn't the case, we wouldn't have done everything we have so far. Everyone we killed would still be alive."

Isaac glanced over at his girlfriend, but she was still gazing out the window, and so he allowed his gaze to drop. What she was saying was technically true. How many had they killed altogether? Six? Seven? When he thought about it, that number of deaths qualified them both as serial killers.

Gloria continued, "But I don't regret it. I want to live, and so do you. That's why we're playing. So that one of us can continue living once this whole thing is over."

Isaac sighed quietly and nodded in agreement. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, being careful of her broken arm, and pulled her close to him. However, she shrugged his arm off and stood up. He stared confusedly up at her as she slowly approached the window, and placed her hand on the cold glass.

"Everyone who is born is destined to die. It's inevitable." She watched the beads of water slowly run down the window. Some ran faster than others, but they all met the same fate: the bottom of the glass. "What's our hurry? We're all going to get there someday. Is it really wrong to try and slow the process? Shouldn't we try to have some control over how we reach death?"

Gloria watched as a single drop of water hit the window directly in front of her and then stood frozen at that point, resisting the urge to rush down like the other droplets all around it. However, another bead of water above it crashed down and pulled the stationary water along with it.

"That's why I want it to be us at the endgame." Gloria said, turning her focus back on Isaac, "Everyone here wants to live, but we're chasing after it. We're the ones who deserve it." She walked slowly over to Isaac and knelt down in front of him. Isaac noticed the deep gash on her forehead that had healed rather quickly, but wondered if the bump to her head was making her so talkative.

"And out of everyone here, you're the only one I would allow to kill me. I've never had anyone else know me as well as you do. And I know that I could be happy dying if I knew that meant that you were allowed to live." Gloria leaned forward and kissed Isaac, nearly falling on top of him as she did so. She broke the kiss and took her seat next to him again.

"And don't worry, you don't have to say anything, Isaac." Gloria whispered, "I know you feel the same way."

Isaac smirked very slightly and then removed the expression from his face. Gloria was sure presuming a lot. Isaac sure cared for Gloria a great deal, and if he had ever experienced love, it was most definitely with her. But he wasn't sure if he'd be happy knowing that he was dying so that she could live on. He'd definitely protect her as much as he could, but sacrifice was too final, too full of commitment. There was no going back once you were dead, and what satisfaction was there in death? If she was happy dying for him, then it appeared that the decision for the endgame was already made. Still, Isaac saw no need to kill his girlfriend at that moment. An ally was much more useful than a corpse, and he truly did enjoy her company. He was probably going to feel awful killing her later on.

He turned his head and watched as her eyes slowly close as her head drifted over and leaned on his shoulder. It wouldn't be long before she fell asleep. He could use a nap himself. Isaac saw the dark sky from where he sat and pulled the watch from his duffel bag. It was already getting late. A new danger zone was about to be activated, and night would be here faster than anyone expected. Still, Isaac didn't want to venture out into the rain. It would make the game record practically out of reach if the rain continued, but Isaac didn't care so much about the record as he did about the win. And knowing that Gloria was going to sacrifice herself for him eased the load from his shoulders.

Isaac smiled optimistically at the incoming darkness.

* * *

"It's so dark out." Molly (Girl #9) remarked wringing out the bottom of her shirt for the hundredth time.

"It's the clouds." Kara (Girl #24) said, "The sun would be out if it wasn't raining." She stood directly in front of the window, watching the rain pour down from the heavens. A puddle formed on the carpeted floor beneath her dripping figure. The rain had caught both girls completely by surprise, and it took them both longer than expected to find shelter. It had taken nearly running into a danger zone to convince them that getting wet was better than dying. So they had taken their time and found shelter after an hour of searching in the rain. Both were chilled to the bone, but there wasn't anything to dry their shaking bodies, so instead they existed in a room of an abandoned building hoping that their clothes would dry soon.

"This area isn't going danger zone any time soon, is it?" Molly asked. She pulled out her map for a quick reference, but Kara answered first.

"Nope. Both danger zones are in wooded regions. We're in the city area right now. There are danger zones to the north and the west, but we'll be fine here for now."

Molly checked the map and saw that Kara was correct. She shrugged and placed the map back into her duffel bag. Molly curled into a little ball and observed Kara staring out the window. A knot formed in her stomach. She wasn't afraid of her friend – more than anything, she was worried. Back when the two were attacked by that giant pretending to be dead, Molly had nearly died. And Kara had nearly killed their attacker. Molly wasn't so concerned about sparing another's life as she was worried what would happen to Kara if she murdered someone. Molly was afraid that her friend would break down, or worse, decide to play. Despite Molly's interference in Kara's actions earlier, she had to admit that her friend had changed. She'd become a lot more…competent was the correct word. She remembered the map a lot more easily. Her decisions made plenty of sense and seemed well thought out. She'd gotten better at the game.

Kara sighed, the water rushing down to the ground right before her eyes. A shiver raced through her body and she grasped her arms in the hopes of warming her cold body. It did nothing to help, but the chill soon left on its own. She turned and saw Molly staring at her from the corner of her eye.

"I never thanked you." Kara said fully turning around to face her friend.

"Thanked me?" Molly parroted.

Kara nodded, "I almost bashed that guy's head in with my bowling ball. Thank you for stopping me. I almost lost myself to The Program."

Molly smiled weakly, "I didn't do anything. You're the one who saved my life."

Kara returned the smile, but it soon disappeared. "Since then, I've felt…different."

Molly opened her mouth to speak, but decided against saying anything. She closed her mouth and took a deep breath, allowing Kara to continue.

"It's like…something clicked inside my head. I saw the hand marks on the corpse…and saw how large his hands were…and that you were getting close to grab the taser…and suddenly I understood everything, like a giant puzzle coming together. And ever since then, the big picture's been a lot easier to see."

"Well, that makes it better for us." Molly mentioned stretching her arms out in front of her, "Things have been pretty smooth since then. If this keeps up, we'll run into Bruce or Jeff (Boy #22) in no time."

"I guess." Kara replied as she returned to the window. She wouldn't say it, but her new condition worried her slightly. She wasn't worried that she'd start to play to win. But rather, Kara fully understood The Program. The underlying theme of it all: only ONE survives. This meant that if escape was impossible, sooner or later, Kara or Molly (or maybe both) would have to die. This fact was constantly staring at Kara directly in the face, and it refused to leave her alone. At least one of the girls in that room would have to die.

Molly sprawled out on the floor, stretching each of her limbs and trying to remove the sore spots form her body. It wasn't exactly comfortable running around in a forest for a day, and her body was not happy with everything that was happening to it. She reached a hand up to her neck and rubbed it gently, almost feeling the large hands wrapped around her throat again.

"Kara," Molly said, "Do you remember how scared you used to be when we'd watch scary movies together?"

Kara continued to glance out the window, but she nodded and murmured, "Yeah."

"I wonder if you'd still be scared of them if you saw them now." Molly said.

"Of course I would." Kara replied softly, "They'd all remind me of this place." Kara could see this whole playing field as one giant horror movie. A bunch of teenagers in a secluded place where danger lurks around every corner. The villain would stalk their prey very carefully, claiming one of the more important characters every once in a while, while lesser characters are killed in the first scene they're featured. And she could see the room they were in being a scene in the movie also. Sure, two girls in wet clothes in a dark room – but in the movies, there was usually some kind of danger. Like a mysterious figure appearing out of nowhere-

A figure streaked across the street in front of the window. Kara gasped and her eyes went wide as the masculine form raced down the street, a large katana in his hand. Molly quickly sat up when she heard Kara's gasp and then jumped to her feet.

"What is it?" Molly asked allowing some anxiety and fear to leak into her voice.

"I saw someone." Kara replied, squinting through the falling rain as the figure disappeared from sight.

"Could you see who it was?" Molly questioned, trying to see for herself.

"No." Kara said, "It was a guy and he was carrying a sword."

Molly gave up looking through the window and slowly walked back to her spot on the carpet. Noticing that it was wet, she moved to the side and sat back down. "The chance of it being one of our friends is small."

Kara forced her eyes away from the window, feeling a knot form inside her stomach.

"And besides," Molly continued, "I'm not up for approaching someone with a sword if we don't know who it is."

Kara had to agree with Molly on that point, but she couldn't help but feel like…maybe it had been one of her friends. Of course, she'd never know for sure, and whoever he was, he was gone now. But…still…

Kara returned her gaze to the window as Molly resumed her full body stretch. Kara heard her friend's breathing slowly becoming rhythmic, and before long she knew that Molly had fallen asleep. Kara turned her head and noticed that her assumption was correct. Sleep was a luxury that made you vulnerable. It was good that Molly was getting some now, because they'd both need to be well rested for the remainder of the game. Kara felt the tug of fatigue on her own body, but she wouldn't allow herself to fall asleep. One of them would have to awake in case someone stumbled upon their shelter, since this building had only locks on the doorknob – no deadbolts and no chains. These locks wouldn't be very effective against someone who wanted to get inside. Maybe she'd get some rest once Molly awakened, but for now, she'd need to stay awake.

The girl let out an exhausted breath before relieving herself of her post and settled down on the floor. Her eyelids dropped dangerously low, but she shook her head and forced herself to stand again, knowing that she would not fall asleep standing up. She watched the water repeatedly fall, hearing the constant sound of rushing water. Kara reached up and pinched her cheek as hard as she could. The pain surged through her face and the girl found herself wide awake once again. She gazed out the window and pictured the boy once again racing through the torrent, the rain obscuring his face but the long katana easily identified. She wondered if it had been Bruce.

His image appeared in her mind, smiling at her as he extended a hand towards her. Kara smiled back, drowsily leaning up against the window pane. His lips began moving, but Kara couldn't hear what he was saying.

"What are you telling me?" she asked back. She watched his mouth carefully, making out the words as he mouthed them.

"I'm looking for you. Stay alive until I can find you."

Kara blushed slightly, her eyes completely closed now. She reached out and grabbed his hand, taking what little comfort she could inside her mind as she slipped into sleep – standing against the window.

* * *

Bruce raced down the empty street, the katana gripped inside his hand. He knew it was very unlikely that he'd find any of his friends in this downpour. In most cases, the remaining contestants had found some place to hide from the rain, and that made it all the more unlikely that he'd run across anyone. But Bruce could not force himself to take shelter and wait. Too many horrific images flashed through his mind, too many possibilities were recognized, and too many minutes were spent hoping the rain would end.

He dodged to the side and hid beneath an awning as he produced his map and compass, doing his best to identify his current location. He guessed that it wouldn't be smart to keep going on the street he was on. It eventually led into a danger zone, and those would have to be avoided at all costs. Bruce sighed, placing the map back into his duffel bag. He'd searched through the city region to the best of his ability with no results. His remaining friends were still out there somewhere, and his search that had already lasted more than a day would continue. He'd have to journey back into the forest area.

Feeling the exhaustion pulling his body down, he decided to take a short break and he collapsed beneath the awning. He closed his eyes for a moment, but the effect was instantaneous. He watched helpless as Jeff raised his scythe and swiped down, tearing out a good chunk of Bonnie's (Girl #20) neck. Bruce stared at him as Jeff stood tall, his bloody weapon dripping onto the ground.

_Pain…_

Bruce's eyes snapped open, a knot inside his stomach. He wrapped both arms around his body, suddenly realizing that he was shivering. Tiny bumps rose up all over his flesh, and he rubbed his hands over his skin in an attempt to remove the chills. He pulled in his legs to create some body heat and it worked to a certain degree. But the image still seemed fresh in his mind. He closed his eyes to remove the horrific sight, but something had taken its place.

Bruce stared down at the edge of his katana as it pointed down at the boy on the ground below him. He knew that the boy was not Jeff, but that was who he saw. And just like last time, Bruce watched as his friend tried speaking to him, but he could not make out the words. And suddenly Jeff was gone, Isaac taking his place. He felt the urge rising into him to swing the blade down, ending the boy's life. And yet, Bruce felt something holding him back.

Again Bruce's eyes quickly opened. His conscience tugged at him, reminding him of times long since past. No, he couldn't just kill for the sake of killing. And he couldn't convince himself that murdering someone would protect his friends. He was nearly positive that he could only kill if someone was actively threatening the life of one of his friends. Only as a means of protection.

His mind wandered back nearly half a day. Back when he'd nearly taken the life of one of his attackers. Bruce could see himself quickly spinning to the side, extending the kitchen knife as he did so that cut into Peter's (Boy #10) jugular. But that had been an accident, right? And besides, the three of them had tried to kill Bruce. Bruce hadn't used any unnecessary force – they had nearly murdered him! Despite the effectiveness of the argument in his favor, guilt began to creep into his mind.

_I can't get sidetracked._

Bruce squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he removed the thoughts from his head.

_My friends – they are the only things that matter right now. I can deal with morals later. I must find them. I must PROTECT them._

Bruce fought the fatigue from his body as he finally stood, watching the sheet of rain fall before his face. It seemed much less intimidating now. It was just water. And even if it was acid, nothing was going to get in the way of Bruce's determination. His friends needed his help, and he would not stop until he found them.

"_Bruce, it's very important that you protect those you care about."_

He nodded at the words around which he had molded his life. He would protect them. That's why he had taken self-defense – to guard the physical manifestations of his life: his friends, his family, himself. Bruce knew that everything that exists is transient – it's important to preserve what you have while you have it.

He closed his eyes one last time before venturing out in the rain. And she appeared before him, looking happy to see him. He reached out a hand toward her and tried to tell her to stay safe. She called out to him, a confused look on her face, and so he talked much more slowly.

"I'm looking for you. Stay alive until I can find you."

She smiled warmly at him and some color rushed to her cheeks. She grasped his hand and he could feel her warmth traveling through his body. Her eyes closed softly and she drifted toward him and as she fell through his body, Bruce opened his eyes, the warmth of the vision of Kara still racing through his body. With that, he raced out into the numbing rain, feeling only her warmth pushing him onward.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 48, 50, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 23, 43

(13) Contestants remaining


	49. Disgrace and Redemption

The small figure moved slowly between the trees, pushing the branches away from his body with his powerful shotgun. Realizing that he had not checked the ammo inside the gun in a while, Minh (Boy #6) opened it and saw that it was loaded to capacity from the last time he had loaded it. That felt like it had been an eternity ago, but it had only been half a day. So much had happened since then. So much…

It took only a flash of what he had seen within that shack for him to snap the shotgun back into place and continue forward. He'd been betrayed, he'd been lied to, and he wouldn't stand for it. If Nathan (Boy #19) wanted to be with her-

A crack of thunder roared in the sky overhead which frightened the small Asian. He jumped nearly a foot in the air and then waited for his heart to stop beating out of his chest. A cold chill ran through his body, and he wondered if he should attempt to find shelter. The rain poured down his face as he slowly shook his head to answer his own question. He didn't mind the rain very much. And if he sat himself down, he'd be forced to think through everything that had happened to him. Minh didn't want to do that.

He could still see Nathan on the ground in front of him, writhing around in the sand. Minh had wanted so much to see what was wrong, but he knew what would happen if he had stayed there. He'd be overcome in sorrow, and eventually allow himself to forgive Nathan. And as much as Minh wanted that to happen, he would not let it. Nathan had betrayed him and did not deserve his forgiveness. Minh knew he had to leave. But a part of him wondered if Nathan had faked the whole thing to try and keep Minh there. That normally wasn't something Minh would expect Nathan to attempt, but under the circumstances, anything was possible. Hell, Minh never expected that he'd be willing to shoot at anyone with a shotgun, but he'd already done so many times. The Program did funny things to people.

The sound of the rain echoed all around him, effectively nullifying all other sound. If there was someone else close to Minh, he'd never be able to hear them coming. The thought unsettled him, and so he decided that it would be best if he continued walking instead of standing around like a sitting duck. He knew that the contestant pool was slowly dwindling, and he wondered what the odds were that another contestant was close by.

It took only another moment for the notion to hit the boy. He became abruptly aware of the cold metal in his hand and he realized that he held one of the most powerful weapons in The Program. All of his friends were dead and the only person in the world he felt he could trust had betrayed him. All his loyalties were gone. What was stopping him from playing to his full potential?

Minh froze in his steps and the dull roar of the rain seemed to melt into the background. For what seemed like an eternity, Minh drifted into his mind. He had a very good chance of winning. From what he had seen from other contestants, their weapons paled in comparison to his. If he played smart, he'd be able to take them all on and come out on top. He could win.

Minh winced as he returned to reality, feeling slightly guilty for the thoughts racing around inside his head. The truth of the matter was that a part of him wanted to play. The part inside him that wanted to stay alive, the same part that existed inside everyone, wanted him to use that shotgun as best he could. But Minh knew that deep down, he would not be able to play. If he was going to win, that would mean that he'd have to eventually take on Nathan. And no matter how badly he had been betrayed him, Minh could not kill Nathan. It was just a fact he had to accept.

Feeling completely lost, Minh fell to the ground. It's not as though he had any specific place to go, and for a moment, he felt entirely unsure of what to do. Part of him told him to kill. Another told him to hide. Another told him to run. He was being pulled in so many directions that Minh felt like his head was going to explode. He had collapsed to the ground, wanting someone else to make the decision for him. He got his wish.

* * *

Jeff (Boy #22) made his way through the forest region. He hadn't expected it to take him this long to go to where he needed to go, but he was in no rush. Sooner or later, they'd all feel his pain. But loose ends did make him feel anxious. He didn't worry too much about that, however, since he didn't anticipate any problems.

The boy suddenly froze where he stood, tightly gripping the semi automatic in one hand and grasping the scythe from his pocket with the other. He glanced to his right first, seeing no movement except that caused by the rain. Jeff spun to his left, expecting to see someone standing there, but again the space was empty. A confused look crossed his face momentarily before it was replaced with his traditional apathetic stare. He glanced behind him but again saw nothing but the rain. He carefully placed the scythe back into his pocket, the curved blade facing away from him. He was sure he'd heard-

A quick chortle echoed through the empty air and once again Jeff held his scythe at the ready. He carefully began to move in a circle, doing his best to determine where the laugh had come from.

"Pikachu, I choose you!"

Jeff glanced around in a daze as a large rock came out of no where and collided with his temple. He cried out in pain as he recoiled from the strike and rose up a hand to the side of his head. He pulled back his hand and noticed the drops of blood on it before the rain washed it away. Jeff sneered as he desperately searched the surrounding area for his opponent.

"Go, Pikachu! Thundershock!"

Jeff immediately understood where the voice was coming from and he steadily lifted his eyes upward. High above him, a figure stood perched on a branch. Jeff stared at him with a sense of confusion for a moment, noticing that the figure appeared to be wearing…underwear on his head.

"Nice job!" he called out, "I'll finish him off! Blizzaga!"

Jeff raised his gun and fired off a single shot. He watched as the boy recoiled and clutched his stomach before toppling backwards with a cry. Jeff watched the boy plummet and disappear behind a tree and some bushes. He listened for any movement or sound, but not hearing any, shrugged it off and placed the scythe, once again, back into his pocket. He continued on his way, tenderly touching the new bump on his temple.

* * *

Matt (Boy #20) slowly opened his eyes. His head hurt like a bitch, but he slowly sat up, noticing that everything appeared in double. He closed his eyes, waiting for it to pass.

_Damn, I thought I had received enough experience points. My abilities must not be as high as I thought. And the Pokémon was completely useless. I should have started the battle with a Slow spell._

Matt sighed and opened his eyes. Everything appeared normal this time and he slowly got to his feet, pushing the boxers on top of his head away from his eyes. He just hadn't been ready for that Boss fight. That boy's level had to be way over 45, and Matt could only guess that he was around level 20, just like his assigned number. He'd need to level up some more, and instead take down some lesser Bosses before trying to defeat that boy again.

The delusional boy picked himself up and checked his Kevlar vest, noticing that a new mark had appeared on his stomach where the bullet had connected. Once again, the vest had saved his life. Matt had lost count how many times he'd been shot, but it didn't matter very much to him. As far as he knew, the vest came with the Barrier equipment ability that protected him from firing weapons, but not from blades or magic. He was still convinced that he had entered a videogame, and it appeared that his delusions would only become stronger the more time he spent in The Program.

But somewhere deep inside the lost boy's psyche, a group of neurons were triggered together and a memory raced through his chaotic mind.

* * *

The wireless controller in hand, the boy furiously pressed the buttons in the correct sequence that only came from endless hours of game time. The two characters fought on the screen before him, the shirtless kick boxer facing off against the busty female ninja. Everyone knew that the girls were the best fighters in this game, but Matt liked to give his opponents a chance, instead playing with one of the more difficult male characters.

He quickly blocked and countered a three punch combo with a few kicks and punches to throw his opponent off guard, followed quickly with a throw. He smiled in the same manner a professional baseball player would smile at a Little League game and waited. He waited as his opponent on the opposite side of the world forced their character back on her feet, and launched a cheap low attack. Matt easily crouched to block the attack and immediately jumped into the air up and over the female ninja who was still attempting a combo at the open air. He smirked as he quickly pressed the correct buttons subconsciously and watched as his kick boxer lifted the ninja off her feet and then brought her back down onto his knee, depleting her health bar. Matt didn't bother exchanging pleasantries – he'd kicked the other guy's ass and they both knew it. He left the area, looking for a stronger opponent.

"Matt? It's dinnertime!" his mother called from behind his closed door.

"I'll eat a little later!" Matt called back, accepting the challenge from another opponent.

"You play those games too much!" his mother yelled, "It's not healthy!"

Matt didn't respond, since his mother always said something to that effect when he played on his game system, and instead focused on the fight in front of him. He tried a low attack immediately followed by a high attack, and found himself easily countered. He smirked, realizing that his opponent was better than other people he had faced. He launched attack after attack, few of them actually hitting their target. In the meantime, his opponent was doing considerable damage, and before he even realized it, the round was over, and he had lost.

He was slightly surprised that he had lost, but instead began the next round with zeal. He smirked as he landed a tough combo that dealt considerable damage and began to start again when his challenger started his counterattack. Matt could only watch in shock as he beaten into submission by his opponent in a total of twenty seconds.

Matt breathed out before requesting another match and waited a few seconds before he was able to change his character. He smirked confidently as he chose a better fighter and was surprised that his opponent had changed characters as well. The fight began and Matt won the first battle after each person dealt considerable damage. The second fight started much like the first, but this one went to the challenger instead. Determined to win, Matt pressed the buttons rapidly and with great precision. As he prepared to end the round, the opposing character quickly parried his attack and drove him into the ground.

Getting frustrated, Matt requested another match and picked his favorite character. He frantically pressed the buttons so that the match would begin faster, and as soon as it did, he launched an all out assault – none of his attacks landed. His character was tossed back and forth across the screen and before he knew it, he had lost without causing any damage to his opponent. He cursed in anger and prepared for the next round. Before he could even attack, the challenger knocked his fighter down to the ground time after time. Matt had lost another match without damaging his opponent at all.

With a cry of rage, Matt launched the controller into his game system, watching as both of them cracked into several pieces. Realizing what he'd done, Matt became even angrier and thrust two fists into his bed, yelling out in anger.

"Matt?" the voice of his mother called to him again. Her footsteps echoed down the hall and slowly opened the door, "Are you okay, honey?" Her eyes settled on the broken system and controller and then over to her son lying on the bed with his back to her.

"Matt…" she trailed off, "It's been a long time since I've seen that friend of yours. Maybe now that your system is broken, you can give him a call again and spend some time together…"

"Go away Mom." Matt replied. The truth was he and his friend had split long ago. But Matt didn't need friends – he had his videogames. And in his cyber world, he was king. He found every treasure, killed every monster, and defeated every challenger. His companions in his role playing games were his friends now, and no one could take that away from him. Until he had been disgraced by that other challenger.

A tear slid down his face, unbeknownst to his mother, who shut the door behind her as she left her son alone. It had been a long time since he had miserably failed. He hated the feeling. Matt wiped away the tear, deciding that he would go out and buy a new system and controller the following day and practice his skills so that he'd never be disgraced again.

* * *

Matt shook his head slightly, forcing the memory out of his head. He stood up, feeling slightly lethargic. For a long time, he'd felt invincible in The Program, but this memory convinced him that there was the possibility that there was someone else out there that could defeat him. Despite all the work he put in and all the practicing he had done, he could not get cocky. He was good at videogames, but so were other people.

_Time to raise my level._

He began with a quick three punch combo from the videogame he had played endlessly and then suddenly rushed off into the sheets of falling rain, trying to enhance his ninja stealth skills. He would not be disgraced ever again.

* * *

Bruce (Boy #23) emerged from the bushes, cursing as he stumbled over a protruding root and nearly toppled into the mud. He stuck the end of his katana into the ground for support and regained his composure. By the time he had lifted his head from staring at the ground, the end of the gun was pointed directly at his forehead.

"Don't move." Minh hissed, his finger hovering over the trigger.

"Please," Bruce began, carefully, placing the sword on the ground and holding both hands up in the air. His original weapon, a sharpened kitchen knife, was still tucked away in his back pocket, just in case the boy still wanted to fight. The standoff continued for a minute before Bruce spoke up once again.

"I'm not playing." Bruce said, "We don't have to fight. Please, don't shoot me."

Minh considered the boy's words, but was not completely convinced. He took a step away from the boy in front of him, keeping the shotgun aimed straight ahead.

"How do I know you're not lying?" Minh asked slowly, feeling the weight of the situation heavily on his shoulders.

"Because," Bruce said simply, "If I was playing, I would have killed you already."

Minh's eyes widened suddenly and his finger came dangerously close to the trigger. But instead of ducking for cover, Bruce slowly lowered his arms down to his side. The two continued to stare at one another, neither particularly sure what the best course of action would be.

"Lower the gun." Bruce said without any force in his voice, "If you were playing, you would have shot me by now. Neither of us is going to do the other any harm. Let's just relax for a minute." Minh took another step backwards, but carefully lowered the gun. Bruce smiled and took a deep breath and took a step forward extending his hand. Minh instantly raised the gun again and Bruce quickly backed off, deciding that he'd do without the handshake.

"My name's Bruce." The boy introduced himself.

"I know," Minh said, "I've seen you around in the cafeteria with your group of friends." Bruce winced slightly at the mention of his friends, but he took it all in stride nodding his head to let Minh know he had been correct.

"And you're Minh, right?" Bruce asked. The Asian boy nodded only once, once again deciding to lower the gun. Bruce reached down and grabbed his katana, but then took two steps backwards and took a seat at the base of a tree where the rain continued to drench him, but to a slightly lesser degree.

"You…have you seen any of my friends in the playing field?" Bruce asked, trying not to let the anxiety creep into his voice.

Minh thought for a moment, but he shook his head and murmured, "No."

Bruce sighed in frustration, and glanced off to the ground before glancing up at his company for the moment. "Are you looking for someone too?"

Minh still felt slightly hesitant engaging in this kind of contact, but he saw no harm in indulging the boy for now. The shotgun provided all the protection he needed, and Bruce seemed like a nice guy. Maybe he'd have some important information to share. The Asian boy followed suit and took a seat beneath a tree not too far away from Bruce, but not close enough to put himself in danger.

"No, I'm not looking for anyone." Minh replied, "All my friends are dead."

"I'm sorry." Bruce said, "I've lost some of my friends too. I'm trying to find the rest before something bad happens to them."

Minh nodded in understanding, feeling himself slightly drawn to Bruce. There was no attraction there, but instead this feeling of…security. It was almost as if Bruce seemed to radiate protection from his very being. It made Minh feel that much better about the morbid circumstance and he found himself indulging in the conversation a little more.

"I found my…" Minh hesitated before using the word "boyfriend" since some people didn't know how to respond to that kind of information throw at them. He continued, "…my best friend. Nathan."

Bruce nodded, his attention solely on Minh, with no apparent attempts to interrupt or pry. Minh took a breath and continued, "We'd both been looking for each other since The Program began and we were both so happy when we found each other." He stopped for a moment, "But…but he ended up betraying me. I…I had to leave him behind." Minh felt depressed and relieved at the same time. He didn't like thinking about what had happened, but he was grateful for having Bruce there just listening to him. Minh stared off to the ground almost getting lost in thought. Bruce spoke to him before Minh retreated into his mind.

"Is he dead?" Bruce had asked the question softly so as not to sound accusatory or suspicious. Minh turned toward him and looked at him through the pouring rain.

"I don't know." The Asian boy replied, looking somber. Bruce didn't say anything for a moment, letting Minh work through his mental processes on his own. Slowly, Bruce began talking.

"I found my best friend too." Bruce said. Minh turned his head and gazed at his companion. "I'd always claim that I didn't have a best friend, that they were all equal to me. But in all honesty, I do value his friendship above the rest of them. And that's why it hurts…" Minh waited for Bruce to continue. After a few moments, he did, "When I found my friend, he was ripping out the throat of another contestant."

Minh stifled a gasp and then asked, "He's playing?"

Bruce nodded with conviction, "For some reason, he's got it into his mind that playing will help him somehow. I'm not going to presume I know what's going on inside his head, but somehow, he's justified it. And from what I witnessed, he's good at it."

Minh gazed down at the shotgun in his hands, feeling extremely grateful for its presence for the first time since he first unzipped his duffel bag at the very beginning of the game. He knew that people would have a tough time getting to him as long as he held this weapon, including people who were particularly efficient at killing.

"Every time there's an announcement, I have to wonder how many of them are dead because he killed them." Bruce muttered.

"What happens when you find him?" Minh asked.

Bruce deeply sighed, "I still haven't figured that part out. I can't allow him to continue killing, but I don't know if I can kill him myself. I keep jumping back and forth between deciding to save him or stopping him at all costs."

"That must be awful." Minh replied with sympathy and stretched his neck momentarily. The two boys sat in silence for a moment.

"But the weird thing is, I still want to save him." Bruce said, "He's made some mistakes, but deep inside him somewhere, he's still my best friend. And nothing he could ever do can erase all those good times we had together."

Minh listened to the boy's words, feeling guilt creeping into his body. He found himself remembering those times when he and Nathan would watch a movie or going bowling or just hanging out for the company.

"_He's made some mistakes, but deep inside him somewhere, he's still my best friend."_

Bruce continued, "Life's too short. I know in our case, it's weird thinking like that. But even if we weren't in The Program, the years would just race by us. Why shouldn't we try to enjoy the moment while it's there? Before we know it, we're dead and in the ground and that argument or misunderstanding doesn't seem so important."

"I have to go." Minh said suddenly, jumping to his feet, his mind going a mile a minute.

This caught Bruce surprise and he nearly reached for his katana, but stopped himself in enough time so that Minh didn't notice. Minh smiled down at him gratefully and before racing off into the forest, he said, "Thank you."

Bruce returned the smile long after Minh was gone, slowly rising to his feet. He hadn't known Minh very well, but just getting all those feelings out into the open was refreshing. The burden felt slightly less heavy as he grabbed the strap from his duffel bag and swung it over his shoulder. Who knew if the two boys would see each other again, but it appeared that their short conversation had helped them both immensely.

Bruce optimistically bushed aside some shrubbery in the hopes that he'd find his friends very soon. And that his best friend would soon regain his humanity.

* * *

Minh raced around the trees, the branches raking against his skin and many coming close to drawing blood. But the Asian boy didn't care. His mind was no only focused on one person.

_Nathan, I'm sorry I left you._

Minh felt tears of guilt slowly rising to his face. He accidentally ran directly into a tree and quickly recovered, continuing his mad sprint. He knew where the shack was, and that was a plus, but it would still take him a while to get there, since those danger zones were popping up all over the place. Minh grabbed the map from his bag and glanced at it, deciding he was still heading in the right direction.

_I'm sorry I left you. Please, still be there. I don't want to be alone anymore. Please still be there!_

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 43, 48, 50, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 23

(13) Contestants remaining


	50. Thoughts and Dreams

Kim (Girl #17) hadn't felt this alone in a while. It was really rare for the girl to feel vulnerable, but it had happened before. After all, she was human. But it used to be different. Kim was a girl who liked time to herself. Sometimes, she'd decline a group activity just to watch television on her own. There was nothing wrong with that in her mind, since everyone needed some time to themselves. Kim liked having more than others. And it wasn't that she didn't like the company of other people – far from it. Kim cared a lot about her friends. But for the girl, sometimes life became too complicated. Stress wore down on her too often. And it was only during those times alone that Kim was able to fully and completely relax. Nothing bothered her during her time of solitude. But Kim was beginning to understand why those times were so relaxing for her. Sure, she could isolate herself for weeks on end if she wanted. But whenever she decided to return to the real world, her friends were always there waiting for her. That wasn't the case anymore.

Kim glanced to the only window in the barren room she found herself in. She noticed the rain had lessened considerably since the moment it had started. The majority of the time, it was only drizzling, but every once in a while the rain would start to fall much faster and the droplets would become much bigger. Moments like these would eventually pass, once again replaced by the sprinkling of tiny water specks. Kim wondered how much longer she'd sit inside that empty room.

All of her friends were gone. That was a fact that she was still having trouble accepting. If she still had her cell phone, she could definitely see herself calling one of them and actually expect them to pick up. But that was impossible. They were all gone. First it had been Cassie (Girl #4). Kim and the rest of them hadn't been able to find her in time. Instead, they picked up her murderer. Then Taryn (Girl #3) was eliminated by Gloria (Girl #22) with Cassie's weapon. And then Kim's remaining two friends, Naomi (Girl #11) and April (Girl #15), were both killed. She had tried her best to protect them, but in the end, she'd been as helpless as ever. Whether she was with them or not, all her friends had died, and she was left alone.

Kim was not used to crying. The sadness had overwhelmed her when she found April's body. She'd cried then, but that had been it. She hadn't cried when Taryn and Cassie were killed. No, she'd been more angry than sad then. Their deaths had inspired her into actions, pushing her to save her friends from a similar fate. She had no time for grieving when there was still work to be done. But that didn't matter anymore. She had no one left to protect, and no distractions from her sadness. They were all dead. And she was alive.

_DAMN! DAMN! DAMN!_

Kim screamed inside her head as tears forced themselves out of her eyes, and she angrily wiped them away with the back of her hand. It wasn't fair! Why did they have to die? There were still other contestants out in the playing field, why couldn't they have died instead? Kim felt slightly guilty for wishing death on other people instead of her friends, but how else was she supposed to feel? Her friends had been good people, each and every one of them.

Naomi was a born leader and could easily make anyone feel important. She'd always listen to what people had to say and be willing to admit if she was wrong, or if someone else's ideas were better. Confidence and humility – Naomi would have made a good politician, and maybe helped fix this fucked up country of theirs. Taryn was the kindest person Kim had ever met. She'd help anyone in need, even if they were a complete stranger. She was meek, but would stand up when things got rough. She would have been a great nurse, or maybe run one of those volunteer shelters for the poor. Cassie was an empath. She could immediately sense how someone was feeling and respond to it. But her true passion was singing. And Kim knew that someday Cassie's voice would have spanned the country, bringing hope to everyone who heard her. April was an idealist, through and through. Her notions of justice and goodness were too perfect to exist in the real world. But they would guide her to organize rallies and protests against the injustices done by the government. April was an inspiration, and could have changed the world.

Why were they brought here to this playing field? Impartial lottery could not be claimed in this situation like it was described on the news. The contestants were chosen: couples appeared together, groups of friends were all contestants, and loners in their own right were placed in the playing field. There were people in their class that were not chosen to take part in The Program. Why weren't these people chosen? Why were Kim's friends?

_But there's nothing I can do for them now._

Kim had to acknowledge that fact. There was no way to bring someone back from the dead. They were all beyond her reach, but her memories of them would never be too far away.

Kim took a deep breath and allowed her body to relax. The past was the past. What mattered at that moment was the present. Her actions up to that point had been to protect her friends. Despite her many varying attempts at doing so, she had failed. But now she was left in a difficult position. Now that she had no one left to protect, what should she do?

_It's time to take revenge. For all my friends. They were placed in The Program – those who put them there should be the ones to pay. Survive until the end. And then give those government bastards what they deserve for killing my friends!_

Kim's thoughts raced around inside her head. Thoughts of murder and revenge quickly welled inside her, and she found herself clenching both of her hands into fists. A part of her desperately wanted revenge – against Gloria for killing some of her friends (since she was not aware that the girl was responsible for all her friends' deaths), against all the other contestants suckered into playing for the win, and against the people in that damn school building forcing them into this situation.

_But in order to win, I'll have to play. I'll be just like Gloria._

She could not delude herself. The whole reason that people killed each other was so they could win. No matter how worthwhile the end might be, playing for the win made her just as bad as everyone else who was killing. No, she wouldn't allow herself to fall victim to The Program. If someone brought the fight to her, she'd battle to protect herself. But she would not take a life just for the sake of surviving.

She could almost picture April smirking at her, telling her that she was proud of her decision. But Kim shook her head, wondering if playing defensively would be enough. There was still the chance that Kim could be the final winner, but things didn't look promising.

_"Don't give up hope. We're here with you. We can help too."_

Taryn's soft voice carried through Kim's head, and even though she knew that her dead friend had not said those words to her, Kim felt less uneasy. She smirked very slightly as she brought her knees into her chest and hugged them close to her. The loss of her friends didn't feel as strong as it had before. The girl grabbed her nail gun and pulled it close to her, just in case, and again glanced at the window. The rain had let up considerably, and Kim was tired of sitting in one place for an extended period of time. It was now time to reenter the playing field.

_Don't worry, I'll stay safe. And I'll get revenge for all of you. I promise._

* * *

Connor (Boy #4) knew he was in trouble. It had started when some stray pellets from a shotgun blast had entered his thigh. Walking had become more difficult, and the boy could almost feel the infection growing inside his leg. Sure, he could have tried to dress the wound and maybe wrap it up, but there were no readily available supplies. All he could do was try to grit his teeth through the pain and hope that things worked in his favor. The second time getting shot convinced him that things were not going his way.

He wanted to open his eyes, but it was still technically raining, and water dripping into his open eyes only added to his discomfort. So he opted to leave them closed. The idea of keeping his eyes closed in the middle of the playing field with potential murderers running around scared him more than he would admit. But the occasional movement of his companion provided the necessary amount of security. He couldn't really explain it, but Connor believed that she would protect him. Sometimes he was worried that she had left without him knowing it, but soon he'd hear a sigh and a rustling, and the security returned. She had not left him after many opportunities to do so. Maybe she'd stick around until it was all over.

As far as he was doing, Connor wasn't sure if feeling completely numb was a good or bad sign. He only felt pain when he moved, and that normally would not have been a problem for him. But the cold rain sent chills through his body, and with each shiver, the pain would surge through him and he'd suffer through the torture.

Leslie (Girl #25) stared down at Connor, resting quietly beside her. Every once in a while, she'd wonder if he was dead, but then he'd wince in extreme pain and she'd breathe a little easier. The girl found herself desperate for his company, almost surprised at her own feelings making themselves evident in her actions. A part of her wanted to leave the injured boy behind, if only to prove to herself that she didn't care what happened to him. But she would not allow herself to do that. Even if it risked the summoning of her suppressed emotions, even if it risked weakness, she wouldn't leave him to die alone.

_But that's what is going to happen, isn't it? I can't save him. He's going to die here._

Why did this upset her so much? How long had it been since they met? It couldn't have been too much longer than a day, but already Leslie felt…attached to the boy. Sure, he had the habit of talking too much, but he never pressed her for too much information. He had respected her boundaries once he'd understood where they were. But what had truly made her feel…secure was that he had decided to stay by her side. Even after all the harsh words she'd said to him. Even after she'd nearly blown his head off. He remained at her side. Leslie couldn't understand why he had done it, but she was grateful.

She watched as his body clenched with pain, and Leslie glanced away, wincing. Seeing him in such a state was affecting her much more than she expected. She'd almost nearly forgotten about the gunshot wound she'd received at the same Connor had his gut penetrated by the bullet. A noise echoed through the open air and in a flash Leslie whipped out the hunting knife she had taken from Paul (Boy #21) after she had killed him. She glanced around her, but didn't see anyone. Connor remained motionless by her side, since it appeared that he had heard nothing. She sighed and a knot of anxiety formed in her stomach. She fought it away and sat back down, glancing around at the contents of her duffel bag strewn around her. The bag itself was covering Connor's torso to shield him from the rain, and so it had been emptied. There weren't many things of importance found inside the bag except for food, which tasted horrible, and a few more water bottles. The final object was a long rope tied into a hangman's noose on one end. Leslie felt like the rope could serve some kind of purpose, but nothing was coming to mind. It remained unfulfilled on the ground nearby.

For some reason, Leslie's thoughts drifted back to when she had first run into Connor. He'd look terrified the moment she laid eyes on him. Considering the circumstances, he had good reason to be so. With no one to trust and a designated weapon that was a large bottle of laundry detergent, Connor had no way of escaping and no way of protecting himself. He'd said that she was the first person he'd encountered, and was sure that she was one of the students who would be playing. He'd been shocked when she attempted to leave without harming him at all. That's what had convinced him to join forces with her.

Connor winced in pain again, and Leslie shuddered subconsciously. Wasn't there anything she could do to help Connor out? He was in extreme pain, and here all Leslie could do was sit near him, as if that was actually helping him keep going. She felt as useless as the coiled rope on the ground.

_I could end his pain…a quick slash with the hunting knife and he wouldn't have to hurt anymore…_

Leslie's eyes widened and nearly screamed in fury when the thoughts entered her mind. Had she actually been considering ending his life? After promising that she'd never kill anyone in this game and all the anguish that she felt after breaking that promise, she was thinking about killing the only ally she had under some pretense of mercy? The beast inside Leslie stirred momentarily as a deep self-loathing arose. But everything quickly settled down once she regained control over her emotions, and just in time before Connor opened one of his eyes to look at her.

He noticed she had been looking at him and so he smiled and said, "Don't worry about me Leslie. It doesn't hurt nearly as much as you think it does." He drew in a breath as his body shook and the pain surged through his being, but he forced a smile and pushed it away. Leslie didn't appear to believe him, but she slowly nodded.

"I'm…" Leslie began. She paused for a moment and then started again, "I'm sorry…you were shot."

Connor smiled. "There wasn't anything you could have done about it. It was my fault really. If I hadn't been so desperate for more allies, I wouldn't have left us open targets like that. You were hurt too, right?"

Leslie reached up and examined her wound. It was a deep one that was still bleeding and that was most likely infected or would soon become so. It would also slow her down and prevent her from fighting at 100. But none of that seemed to matter compared to Connor's wound. She could continue on, and he could not.

"It's only a scratch." Leslie responded. Connor strained himself to view it better but pain shot through him, and he remained still. Silence settled over the both of them and Connor closed his eyes again. Leslie sighed very softly so that even she could barely hear it and gazed down at the ground. She didn't like feeling useless, but she didn't want to strain Connor either. Still, it would most definitely make the boy feel better, even if it was kept short.

"Connor?" She asked. He didn't respond right away, and for a moment, she wondered if he was already gone.

"I'm here." He said finally.

"Is there anything you want to…talk about?" Leslie managed.

"Talk?" Connor could not hide the surprise in his voice. Ever since he'd met Leslie, she'd always told him to shut up. And now she wanted to talk? Connor didn't know how to respond to the question. He thought that maybe this was Leslie's way of letting him know that she had something to say, or maybe something else was going on.

"I know that talking makes you feel better." Leslie continued, "So, if you wanted to talk to me, if it makes you feel better, you can."

Connor smiled on the ground. This, more than anything, proved that Leslie wasn't going to leave him. He knew how much she hated to converse, but the offer to do so meant that she was willing to go beyond her comfort zone to help him. The suggestion itself was enough to make Connor feel better – enough to make him smile.

"I feel a little weak to carry on a conversation." Connor replied truthfully, "But just hearing you talk would make me feel better." He opened one eye and saw Leslie nod, but not look very comfortable. There was a very slow moment of silence.

"Okay," Leslie said finally, "What do you want me to say?"

"Anything." Connor said, the pain not seeming as harsh anymore, "Just say anything."

* * *

Sid (Boy #14) sat on the edge of the beach. He slowly opened his eyes, but then closed them again from the blinding sunlight. He squinted his eyes and saw the roaring waves crashing a few feet in front of him. Immediately the fear surged through his body.

_When did I get to the beach area?_

He jumped up from the sand, looking around for his duffel bag and the taser that he had clutched in his hand. However, the only things he saw surrounding his body were towels, sunglasses, suntan lotion, and a cooler filled with assorted beers. He looked over at his now tanned bicep and saw that there was no wound from the bullet that had pierced him. He looked down and saw no damaged done to his Achilles tendons.

_Where am I? What happened to everyone in the playing field?_

The sun disappeared behind a cloud and Sid found it easier to see. A bright blue sky stretched out before him until it met the equally blue ocean at the horizon. The beach was completely vacant except for him, but behind him stood a fairly large house on the very end of the beach. Unsure of what else to do, Sid began to walk toward the structure.

The sand squished through his toes, and he paused for a moment. He'd been on the beach once before, and the sand hadn't felt like this. This felt…softer. The grains were smaller and less course. It was like walking a bed sheet rather than many tiny rocks. He gazed up at the house in front of him on the edge of the beach. Sid hadn't remembered a house the last time he was on the beach in the playing field, but he'd only been on it once before, and there was a long stretch of beach. Anything was possible. But still…

_Was it all just a dream?_

He approached the house and walked in the door closest to him. It swung open with a soft squeak and then clattered shut behind him once he had entered. Sid wanted to call out to see if anyone else was in the house, but he reminded himself that he could still be in The Program, and that human contact was dangerous. He moved stealthily through two rooms and found nothing suspicious. The house was almost completely barren, with a few things here or there.

Sid moved forward and noticed a staircase going up and a kitchen in front of him. He opted for the stairs and quietly moved up to the second floor. Again he found nearly empty rooms, but one of them contained a bed frame and a mattress, which was more than the other houses he had inspected in the playing field.

A sudden idea hit him, and the giant froze in fear. He body began a cold sweat and he frantically searched the room for anything resembling a map or a compass. He saw none and raced back into the hallway and down the stairs. Among the few objects he noticed his first time through, he saw neither item he sought. This was still the case. He sprinted into the kitchen, noticing that there were boxes full of miscellaneous items in this room. He began tearing the boxes apart looking for a compass.

_Idiot! You forgot about the danger zones! This could become a danger zone!_

His hand reached up to his throat and froze. He touched his bare tanned skin and large neck muscles. No metal. No blinking lights. No explosives. His face contorted in shock as he slowly made his way over to a toaster that sat on a nearby counter. He picked up the metallic appliance and angled it at his neck.

_No collar._

A gasp barely escaped his mouth. He looked down at the toaster again, to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. In the corner of the metal appliance, he saw the figure of another person emerge into the kitchen. Sid spun around with a growl and the small figure leapt back in fright.

"Sid! What the hell's the matter with you? You scared me!"

Slowly his eyes softened and his arms dropped down to his sides. The feminine figure reappeared in the doorway, looking angry but still very much alive. Her hair hung over her dark-skinned face, and Sid could not deny that she looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her before.

_Janelle_ (Girl #10)_…_

He rushed over to her and wrapped her in a massive bear hug that sent the air out of her lungs. She pushed him away and allowed her breathing to come back to normal, her confused eyes never leaving him for a second.

"What's wrong with you?" she muttered. She was about to say something else when something caught her eye. Sid stood before her, smiling the widest she had ever seen. He was never this open with how he felt. Every piece of information she needed from him was battle against his shyness, and sometimes Janelle would give up from frustration. But that was not the case at that moment. Janelle's mouth dropped in shock as a tear formed beneath the giant's eye and slowly made its way down the side of his face.

"Sid?" was all she could utter.

"I'm just…" Sid began, "…so happy…you're alive."

Janelle was about to ask why this was so important, but he wrapped her into another hug. This one was much gentler however, like he was worried that she was a porcelain vase that would shatter if he was not careful. He cradled her against his body and she just accepted it, feeling confused but very happy. Eventually they parted and Janelle glanced up into his face.

"Will you at least help me with the rest of the boxes?" she asked and left the kitchen expecting Sid to follow behind her. She continued, "Some of those things we bought with the money from Salvador's (Boy #17) parents are really heavy. I could use your help."

Sid didn't move for a minute, allowing everything to soak in. He had gotten the money from Sal's parents? And now he and Janelle were somewhere else with it? He stared up at the ceiling and then over to the boxes full of kitchenware. This was all his. His plan had worked!

Feeling happier than he ever had in his entire life, he followed Janelle out of the kitchen and fell flat on his face. Looking up from the ground, he stared down at his feet and screamed. Janelle's corpse laid exactly the way he had found it. But slowly, the corpse turned its head and stared over at Sid not two feet away.

"YOU LET ME DIE!" she screeched.

* * *

Sid jolted on the ground. His eyes snapped open and the bottom of the metal shield stared back at him. A tear was rolling down his cheek, but its meaning had changed. He could still hear the soft sound of rain splashing against the shield, but it had considerably lessened in intensity. His body was soaked through and through and his feet felt completely numb. But despite all that, he could still feel the taser clutched in his one visible hand.

It hadn't been Sid's intention to fall asleep. The last thing he could remember was hearing the sound of the rain against the metal barrier two inches from his face and feeling the cold rain strike his body. He wasn't sure how he'd fallen asleep, but that wasn't a good sign. Not only had the dream made him feel worse than he had before, but he was sure that he had moved when he had finally woken up. And corpses didn't move.

Sid could only hope that no one had been close by to see his body jolt.

Jeff (Boy #22) stared down at the boy before him. He gazed over at the taser clutched in what appeared to be his cold dead hand. The metal shield effectively covered his face from curious eyes and the dead body of the girl rested about a foot away. Yes, the setup was all very convincing, and Jeff might have fallen for it, if he hadn't seen the body move.

And corpses didn't move.

Jeff took a silent step forward and raised his foot. He slammed it down to the ground on top of Sid's hand that clutched the taser. The electrical weapon sparked momentarily before shattering apart. Electricity surged through Sid's body and he cried out in pain. He sat up in an instant facing forward with his shield at the ready. His eyes widened when he saw that no one was there. His attacker hadn't approached him from the front – it was coming from behind.

Sid spun his head in just enough time to recognize the apathetic face and stare down the barrel of Jeff's semi automatic handgun. Before he could even consider using the shield as protection, the gun went off, ripping a tiny hole through the center of Sid's forehead. His body fell backwards contorting into an awkward position on the ground below him.

It had been a long time since Jeff had first fought the giant, and he had damaged him fairly well back then. He'd rendered both legs useless and he was pretty sure that he'd been shot also. Yes, the giant had been through enough pain in the last few hours. Jeff had wanted to drag it out a little further, but there was also his ammunition to think about. He wasn't running out anytime soon, but he'd need plenty of bullets for those who hadn't felt any pain yet.

Jeff was about to leave, when he suddenly stopped and stared down at the large remains of Boy #14. He bent down and picked up the dented shield, dragging it up and over Sid's face. He stood up and stared down at the body, the shield covering its face and one of its arms.

_There's no acting this time._

Jeff breathed a sigh of relief, crossing off Sid's name from his own personal list of contestants. That tied up one loose end. From the names still left unmarked, it appeared that there were still plenty of contestants left in the playing field, but the numbers were definitely dwindling. The Program couldn't last forever, and it appeared that it wouldn't have to. But Jeff still felt uneasy about something. There was still one more loose end that needed to be taken care of. But this one would be much more difficult to kill. Still, Jeff recognized that no one was exempt from his pain. And that included his best friend, Boy #23 – Bruce.

_One more loose end._

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 43, 48, 50, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 23

(12) Contestants remaining


	51. Indecent Proposal

"Excuse me." the scantily clad woman turned her head, but didn't see who had spoken. Her eyes slowly drifted downwards, and then widened slightly. The very same eyes were staring back up at her, and for a moment, the woman was at a loss of what to do. She was almost very sure it was going to be another ten years before she saw the child again, but only a few months had passed. And she had never expected Ariana (Girl #18) to come to see her. Why should she? Danielle was no mother, and if she was in her daughter's position, she would have hated the mother who had abandoned her.

"Ariana? What are you doing here?" Danielle asked, feeling a pull of motherly instinct rise inside her, and then pushed it away, only knowing what problems it would raise. Before Ariana could respond, another woman slowly drifted over to the pair standing in front of each other on the street corner.

"What are you up to, Danielle?" the woman laughed shrilly, "A youth outreach program? Or are you getting desperate for some business?" The prostitute laughed again in the same laugh before staring over at the two sets of identical eyes looked onto her. She ignored the icy glares and instead began to notice the physical resemblance. Slowly her mouth opened in shock, "Oh my God! Danielle, is this your-"

"Yes." Danielle replied quickly, "Could you give us a minute alone?" The woman nodded and slowly walked out of earshot, glancing back one last time in amazement. The physical resemblance was unmistakable, and somewhere deep inside the whore a stirring occurred, a longing for a daughter of her own. But the emotion was quickly tossed away when she spied a prospective customer eyeing her very long legs. She left the mother and daughter alone.

"Ariana, what are you doing here?" the woman asked. The girl displayed no hints of resentment or sadness. Danielle had become very adept at reading people's expressions and body language – it was very handy in knowing who wanted company for the night and who was better left alone. Her daughter stood before her with no sign of any emotional response. This was not a personal visit – it was purely business.

"I've noticed that you have a great deal of control over your body." Ariana said. The statement caught her mother off guard and she looked slightly surprised for a moment. The hooker regained her composure and stared down into the intrusive eyes that suddenly seemed much deeper than her own identical eyes.

"What do you mean?" The woman asked.

"Your body." Ariana said, "Even in its aging state, you know how to make it attractive to prospective customers."

Danielle took slight offense to her daughter's insinuation of her age, but the comment was enough to keep the woman interested in what else Ariana had to say. The girl had paused for a moment, taking in her mother's reaction, as well as making mental notes to the surroundings and possible reasons why her mother had chosen this location to work that day.

"Not that I'm not enjoying this conversation, sweetheart," Danielle said, "But you're cutting into my business hours. Let's speed this up a little."

Ariana nodded and continued, "I want you to teach me what you know about the body."

"It's a little late for the birds and the bees talk, Ariana." The prostitute smirked down at her progeny. The girl didn't smile back.

"I know all about how the body functions. What I want to know is how to use it to get what I want."

Danielle's smirk disappeared for a moment, as she slowly began to understand what Ariana was suggesting. She cocked her head slightly to one side and narrowed her eyes into her daughter's face. She still saw no emotion, and that worried her.

"You want me to teach you how…to do what I do?" Danielle asked, and before Ariana could nod, she finished with, "Not a fucking chance!"

Ariana's eyes were the ones to narrow this time as she stared up at her mother. She hadn't anticipated for this to go very smoothly, and she was prepared in case Danielle refused. But there wasn't any reason to go there yet. Maybe there was still a way to reason with her mother. Maybe if she knew why Ariana wanted to know how to use her body…

"Don't think that I want to follow in your footsteps." Ariana said with no intended bitterness. "I simply wanted to better understand what makes some people attractive to others."

"And why do you want to know that?" Danielle responded, her thoughts recognizing that she was beginning to sound like her own mother, "This isn't about trying to make some boy notice you, is it? Because there are plenty of fish in the sea, honey, and you're a beautiful girl. There will be other-"

"It's not about a boy." Ariana cut her mother off. A look of concern entered Danielle's eyes and she opened her mouth to speak again.

"It's not about a girl either." Ariana said, and Danielle closed her mouth. They stood facing each other for a moment until Ariana began to speak again, "I want every chance to advance in my life. I have to accept the fact that I may not always be placed in a situation where I am given every opportunity that I would like to have. That's why I would like to master my body, like you have. That way, I can always get where I need to be in order to progress further and further."

Ariana took a deep breath, feeling somewhat relieved that everything was now out in the open. She didn't know why she felt comfortable telling the woman in front of her the things that mattered most to her. Her mind, knowledge, progression, evolution – these all were things that Ariana wanted to enhance, and she was finally given a new medium to do that. But not very many people knew what she wanted from life; in fact, Ariana was sure that almost nobody knew it. But now her mother knew, and the fact that she could tell her mother without worry was…more comforting than Ariana would admit.

"Ariana," Danielle said taking hold of her daughter's hand, "I truly want only the best for you. I know I haven't been much of a mother to you, but I still want you to be happy. I know you can succeed if you put your mind to it, since I'm convinced that, thankfully, you have your father's mind. But using your body in that kind of way is not going to get you where you want to be. Believe me, it'll only get you in trouble."

Ariana looked slightly upset as she gazed up at her mother, confused as to why her mother refused to help.

"As your mother, I can't teach you to…be good at…pleasing people." Danielle released her daughter's hand, "Now go home. Only God knows what your father would say if he knew that you'd come to see me."

_I didn't want to have to do this, but it's important that she teach me._

"No, I'm staying here with you." Ariana said with a soft force that Danielle had not heard before. She stared down at her daughter's face and allowed her face to contort into a look of authority and anger. She prepared to yell at her daughter and threaten to call her father to come pick her up, when Ariana cut her off.

"If you won't teach me, than I'll have to learn by first hand experience." Ariana said, allowing her mother to be completely aware of what she was prepared to do, "I'm going to follow you around wherever you go, observing you and taking notes. It's doubtful that you'll get any customers with me hanging around, and who knows, maybe I can pick up some of the ones who are interested."

Danielle's mouth dropped open, completely shocked that Ariana had already devised a kind of blackmail against her mother. It seemed that the young girl would truly go to any lengths to develop her mind, even coerce her mother into teaching her how to use her body like a tool. She almost found herself ready to give in when her maternal instincts took over and the woman shook her head. She opened her mouth to again attempt to assert her authority over the girl.

"If you think that you can stop me by getting my father involved," Ariana said, her eyes narrowing, "You're wrong. I've thought this out completely, and either way, you lose. We can avoid all these annoyances if you simply agree to meet with me once a week, and teach me all you know about using the body."

Danielle stared down at her daughter in shock, and suddenly found herself smiling for some odd reason. She giggled slightly and then glanced deep into the eyes of her daughter. "Your father sure raised a smart one."

"So we have a deal?" Ariana asked finding herself smiling as well. Danielle stared down at her daughter's smile and her own disappeared. She turned away, wrapping both arms around her body.

"Sorry," the whore said, "You've inherited your grandfather's smile. My brother has it too. He'd smile just like that right before he…"

Ariana stared at her mother as she trailed off. Her arms squeezed her own body tighter and the woman stared off into space. The girl noticed that her mother was shaking ever so slightly, and it appeared that tears had begun to form in her eyes,

_Statistics say that most prostitutes are sexually abused at least once in their life._

The prostitute shook her traumatizing memories away as she spun around and once again faced her daughter. She quickly wiped the tear away and Ariana noticed that Danielle had finally stopped shivering.

"Speaking of my brother, he's a cop. He's bailed me out of many…compromising situations. He has his own way of protecting me, and that's what our first lesson will be about: protection."

Ariana was about to smile again, but remembered that it had upset her mother last time, and so she refrained. The girl nodded and the agreement was official. Ariana was about to turn and leave, when a question popped into her mind. She felt strange asking it, but something inside her wanted to know.

"Am I…going to meet my uncle?" Ariana asked. She'd never met any family from her father's side, and the idea of meeting people who were related to her was a welcoming idea. The concept of a family was more alluring than the girl would admit. Ariana did not display the disappointment she felt when her mother shook her head.

"No, I think it's best that you stay away from your uncle." Danielle said, "I think that he inherited more than that smile from our father – I think he inherited his taste for molesting children too."

* * *

Ariana wiped the water away from her eyes, smearing what little makeup still clung to her eyes and cheeks. The rain had let up significantly from when the sky had opened up in the first place. But the drizzling rain continued to hinder her sight and create problems. In The Program you were either the hunter or the hunted. And no matter how hard she attempted to gain the upper hand over the weather, Ariana was still at its mercy. The rain drops blinded her and the echo of the water striking the earth inhibited her hearing. At this rate, she would have a very difficult time finding, never mind sneaking up on, an intended victim. And that made her the hunted.

She had lost Minh (Boy #6). It wasn't easy to track a person, but once you threw in the rain, it became nearly impossible. She was upset that the shotgun had slipped through her fingers. It almost made all that time she had spent with the two boys completely meaningless. Almost…

She could still see his face. There was no shock in his eyes, no glance of anger as she drove the dagger straight into his chest. No, his death was not the most important thing on his mind at that moment. Ariana found herself wondering what took priority over his life right then and there. She found herself wondering a lot about him. But why was Nathan (Boy #19) taking up so much of her thoughts? The last person who had occupied her mind was another person she had ended – Genevive (Girl #21). The girl had remained quiet for an extended period of time, but Ariana had a feeling her memory was about to return with a vengeance.

Ariana found it slightly surprisingly who still haunted her mind. She knew that the act of killing was traumatic to some degree, and she had anticipated some kind of reaction to it. But she never expected to think about her victims so much. Was this the trauma that she had read about? Genevive was most likely the only other female that Ariana respected, and so it would make sense that her memory would not simply drift into oblivion. But what made Nathan so special?

An image of the boy flashed in her mind, a wide inviting smile smeared on his face. The image became a motion picture and Ariana discovered that she was a part of it, wrapping Nathan in a tight hug and reaching up to kiss him. The girl shook the image away, feeling herself blush in the very slightest.

_So, is this what a crush feels like?_

A part of Ariana was rolling her eyes at her stupidity. She has a crush now, of all times? And on a boy whom she killed? A gay boy whom she killed? Where is the logic in that? She should instead be worrying about all the other contestants in the playing field. Minh would know exactly who it was who killed Nathan, and he was still wielding that shotgun, as far as Ariana knew. Not to mention, there was that other boy who had nearly killed her with her own semi-automatic. He would be no easy target. She needed to focus her attention on the most pressing matter at hand.

But another part of Ariana felt like giggling like some cliché blonde bimbo. Sure, she'd had sex with plenty of males of varying ages and races, but she'd never felt any attachment to any of them. Some had been for favors, some had been to ensure that certain people kept their mouths shut about things they had told her, and some had been sabotage – like that time she'd had sex with a girl's boyfriend a few days before that technology fair. The poor girl had been too upset to finish her project the way she would have, and Ariana won the contest along with the scholarship that came with it. It had only taken a simple hand job from the student council representative to find out who were Ariana's major threats in the contest. It had been a long shot, of course, since she could not know how hard the girl would take the scandal, and sleeping with the judges would have been easier, but too many people asked too many questions the last time she did that, and Ariana didn't want to make a stupid mistake that would brand her for later.

She didn't care if people knew her as the slut, what mattered was that she got what she wanted. She had amassed plenty of scholarships so that she could go anywhere she wanted for college without money being an issue. All she needed was to scout the best place out and…persuade the right people to get her in. Sure, her grades could most likely get her in anywhere she wanted, just like she could have won any contest she fixed in her favor, but there was no reason to take a chance, was there? Not when she had mastered her body.

Ariana picked up her shirt that had attached itself to her from the rain and then let go, the fabric once again settling and sticking to her wet body. The rain had been a major inconvenience, but she couldn't be sidetracked anymore. She didn't very much care about claiming the new record as she did about the win itself. But the more people fought, the better players would slowly stockpile the best weapons, and she'd be at a disadvantage. Not everyone would buy in to her innocent promises of sex. And Ariana was pretty sure that she had made plenty of enemies with her actions in and out of The Program. Some people will shoot her on sight. She needed to better her statistics. She needed that shotgun.

Ariana pushed aside some branches and let them swing back behind her. The girl sighed with a degree of frustration. Things were becoming more and more difficult as the numbers were winding down. She wasn't completely sure how many contestants were remaining, but there were still enough to create problems and disrupt her calculated statistics. The Program had become more complex.

* * *

He woke with a start. How long had he been asleep? He glanced around for his duffel bag and spotted it a few feet away. He scrambled over to it, barely noticing his girlfriend's head fall from its position on his shoulder. She stirred slightly, but instead curled into a little ball and immediately returned to unconsciousness. He unzipped the bag and began rummaging around inside it, pushing aside the two grenades resting within. He finally found the item he was looking for and pulled it out, gazing at it in his hand.

Isaac (Boy #16) stared down at the watch that ticked away in his open palm. His eyes were still slightly unfocused until he blinked away the film and recognized the hands of the timepiece.

_3:40?_

He thought for a moment, and then the realization hit him like a hammer. His eyes widened in fear as he searched around for his map, only to see that the information he needed was not written on the sheet. Isaac remembered that his girlfriend was the one who would write down the information given at the announcements. He glanced over at the snoozing girl as the urgency rose inside him. He scrambled over to her body and grabbed each of her shoulders, shaking her as panic began to creep into his mind.

"Gloria (Girl #22)!" Isaac cried out, his girlfriend finally beginning to stir, "Gloria! Wake up! A new danger zone activates in 20 minutes!" It took only a few seconds for the words to register, and suddenly, the girl was wide awake, her eyes holding the same fear as Isaac's.

"Which zone is it?" she squeaked out as she leapt over to where her duffel bag lay.

"You don't remember?" Isaac asked with urgency, running over to the bag and helping her find her information. The minutes felt like they were ticking away like milliseconds, but the couple finally managed to pull out Gloria's map and furiously scan it for the tiny mark that denoted an upcoming danger zone.

"Area 23." Gloria murmured, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She gazed out the window at the city area that stretched before her and the woods region rising in the not too far distance. The panic slowly melted away from her body and the competent killer regained her composure. It wasn't like her to lose her cool, but it did occur occasionally. Like when that guy interrupted their robbery of the gas station and nearly blew her head off.

"So we're safe?" Isaac sighed with relief. Gloria nodded and returned to her bag, placing the map back inside and pulling out a bottle of water. She opened it and sipped from it slightly to remove the dryness that had settled inside her mouth. The rain had let up considerably. She and Isaac could easily remain in that room for a while, but the numbers were dwindling even more than she knew. And at this point in the game, the weapons were everything. The more weapons they could get, the better off they were. If they waited any longer, the other contestants would have more weapon options. Gloria decided they should leave as soon as possible.

Isaac sighed again in relief. He hadn't been that nervous since the very start of The Program. That classroom had been very unsettling, and the shock of the news had nearly knocked Isaac from his chair. The reality of the situation had smacked him in the face, or maybe that was just the duffel bag they had thrust at him. He felt many times better once he left the school building, and again once he saw his designated weapon: a katana. He'd stuck by the school for a while, watching the other contestants leave one by one. He watched some meet up with others immediately, while others raced off alone. It's strange, how he instinctively stayed behind to wait for Gloria. Isaac wondered if he'd have acted the same now as he did then.

He gazed over at her as she stared out the window, sipping her bottle of water. It was funny how she produced so many emotions for the boy. He wanted to rip her clothes off and screw her on the uncomfortable floor. He wanted to shove that machete into the top of her brain. He wanted to hold her close and never let go. Isaac wasn't sure what so many conflicting ideas meant, but he was sure it was different from any other girl he'd fucked before. Maybe her idea to fight when they were the only two left wasn't such a bad idea. He wondered how he'd feel knowing that she was the one who killed him.

He shook his head the utter absurdity of that thought. It didn't matter who killed him. He'd still be dead. And if he was dead, he wouldn't be the one thing he promised himself he'd do in his lifetime. Gloria could talk all she wanted about the inevitable death of all living things. There was only one thing that was driving Isaac on. He needed to keep himself alive, so that he could kill his father.

That random encounter the boy had had with his father had solidified that notion. The initial shock had surprised Isaac incredibly and he had even considered asking his father to be a part of his life again. But when his father allowed him to walk away, Isaac knew that his father had abandoned him not once, but twice. And Isaac could not forgive that.

Gloria slowly climbed to her feet and capped the water bottle, tossing it back into her open duffel bag. She turned her gaze upon her boyfriend who followed suit as she said, "Let's go."

Isaac collected his things, taking another deep breath, this one attempting to prepare him for the world of The Program they were both about to reenter. He watched as Gloria began to zip up her bag, when she reached in and pulled out a small square electronic device. Even from his position, he could see the light coming from the cracked screen.

"Is it working?" Isaac asked. Gloria smiled as she stared down at it, the light casting an eerie light on her face. She nodded and then stared up at him, her smile growing a little larger.

"There's someone nearby."

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 43, 48, 50, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 23

(12) Contestants remaining


	52. The Dead and The Deserving

The small Asian boy emerged from the forest area. He held the shotgun fully loaded close to his chest as he glanced around the wide open beach area, looking for other contestants. There were no other people standing in the wide open area, so he ventured out a few more steps and then spun around, gazing up and down the forest line for people lurking just at the border. He froze for a moment, almost completely sure he'd heard the snap of a twig, but no movement caught his eye, and so he removed the compass from his duffel bag, removing his gaze from the area around him.

Minh (Boy #6) stared down at the small circle in his hand, watching the needle point directly back into the forest. He breathed out once and pulled out the map also. He returned to his gaze to the compass, then back to the map, again at the compass, and one last time to the map before placing both into his bag and racing off in one direction.

Doubts filled the boy's mind as he continued running, glancing over at the forest every once in a while for possible threats. There was no guarantee he was still in that shack. Plenty of time had passed since Minh had run off, and in that time, anything could have happened. Horrific images flashed in his mind, but he pushed them away. There was safety in numbers, and even if Minh admittedly hated that bitch Ariana (Girl #18) her presence could possibly keep away possible threats. However, one image flashed in his mind that made the boy slow his pace and eventually stop in the soggy sand.

_What if they're doing it again?_

Minh pictured himself walking back into the tiny shack only to find Ariana and his boyfriend engaged in some kind of sexual activity yet again. He could understand that it was a mistake the first time, but mistakes happened only once. After that, an act is deliberate. Minh found himself completely at a loss of what to do if that was the situation. Could he forgive two acts of betrayal?

_"He's made some mistakes, but deep inside him somewhere, he's still my best friend."_

Minh shook his head softly, some stray water droplets from the drizzle falling into the sand. It didn't matter. If Nathan (Boy # 19) was looking for forgiveness, then Minh would give it to him. Who knew how much time Minh had remaining? For all he knew, someone could come running out of the forest and stop his life in four seconds, and that would be the end of it. He'd never see Nathan again. That's not how Minh wanted it to end.

With renewed vigor, the Asian boy raced off again, running along the beach, close enough to the forest to duck for cover if it became necessary, but far enough away so that he was not prone to attack from anyone hiding in the cover of the trees. Minh understood how dangerous the beach area was. Anyone on the beach was spotted almost immediately, and it was difficult to avoid confrontation when there was barely any way to escape. Even so, Minh didn't want to risk getting lost in the woods region, since maneuvering with a compass and a map was tougher than it appeared. There were no definite lines designating areas in the real world, so many decisions were based on guesswork. However, Ariana had been particularly efficient at using a compass and determining paths on a map. Minh supposed that even whores had their uses.

Finally, still a good distance away, the tiny shanty stood as solid as ever atop the wet sand and the still grey sky. Minh wiped some water away from his eyes and he smiled discreetly as he increased his speed, the object of his search very close within his reach. He seemed to be making no progress at all, running on the sand was like trying to run waist deep in water, but slowly the shack got closer and closer to the Asian. He gasped for breath he didn't have as he approached the shack and grabbed the handle. His heart pounded deep inside his chest as anxiety filled his body.

_Please, Nathan, still be here! Still be inside!_

Minh threw the door open, and the first thing he noticed was that Nathan's wet clothes were still hanging above the floor on a cross beam. Minh breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that Nathan would not go running off without his clothes, unless chased away. As Minh's eyes slowly drifted to the side, he wondered why Nathan had not put his clothes back on his body, since they appeared to be nearly dry. His almond eyes slowly settled on his boyfriend's corpse, still hunched over in the corner of the room, and for a moment, Minh didn't respond.

His eyes took in the entire image – Nathan's naked body huddled against the wall. The huge wound in his chest. The blood that nearly covered the front of the dead boy's body and that formed an oval around him. The two blood stained playing cards in front of him. And his lifeless eyes that stared at the ground before him.

The shotgun clattered to the ground. Minh's arms hung limp at his sides, and soon his legs gave way as well. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene, even after they began to water over. He finally glanced away, a tear running down his cheek. He wiped it away and weakly looked back, silently wishing for Nathan to move, to smile and laugh at the horrific joke he'd played. But the dead boy didn't move.

"Nathan?" Minh squeaked out, slowly crawling towards the body. He reached out and touched Nathan's shoulder, feeling the cold flesh send chills all through his body. Minh retracted his hand with a wince, but pulled himself closer and wrapped both arms around the corpse, trying to remember the warmth it once held.

The tears flowed like a waterfall, dripping down the Asian boy's face and onto the dead body he cradled in his arms. Minh stared down at his boyfriend's face through the tears that attempted to blind him. He saw no horror in the boy's face, but rather a sense of despair and pain. The only damage done to Nathan's body was the single stab wound to his chest.

_He didn't even fight back._

Minh hugged the corpse tighter as the grief overtook his body. He'd left Nathan alone and now the boy was dead. Minh felt the rage slowly rising in his body. He was the one with the shotgun – he should have been there to protect Nathan. But instead he'd selfishly run off, and now the only person who truly loved him for what he was, was dead.

_Who did this to you Nathan? Why did I leave you alone? Why-_

Minh suddenly stopped. He glanced around the empty shack, looking for the one thing that was missing from the last time he was here. No, Minh had NOT left Nathan alone. There had been someone else. The same person who had driven the two boys apart in the first place. The same person who had finally shown her true intentions once left alone with the vulnerable boy.

The Asian boy felt the rage slowly well up inside his body. He placed Nathan on the floor and stood up, feeling the hatred emanate from his small figure. It had been all her fault. Ever since the moment she'd entered their group, she slowly wormed her way between the two boys. She'd planned this whole thing from the beginning! Minh reached down and grabbed his powerful shotgun. He gazed one last time at Nathan's body sprawled on the floor, no longer able to contain his fury.

"ARIANA!" Minh screamed as loud as he could, "I'LL KILL YOU!"

* * *

Kim (Girl #17) stopped in the middle of her stride, her brow furrowing. She reached into the duffel bag that hung around her shoulder, fishing around for something. She finally found it, pulling the watch out and glancing at it. She frowned down at it, feeling her heart jump for a moment. Another danger zone was set to become active in ten minutes. Realizing she had no idea which zone that was, she slipped the watch into her pocket and pulled out her map which contained all the important information about the playing field.

She scanned the piece of paper, seeing that the pending danger zone was area 23, and from her estimate, Kim was far enough away that she didn't have to worry about walking into it. She put the map away, and grabbed hold of the weapon she held: a nail gun. Technically, it wasn't a real gun, because it fired nails instead of bullets. But it did get the job done. Kim's only worry was that she had a set amount of nails to fire, and after that, the nail gun would have to serve as a blunt object to fight with. Still, Kim was glad to have it in her possession, and she felt lucky that it was the weapon she'd taken from that meeting in the woods. That felt like it happened ages ago. So much had happened since then. So much was still ahead.

It was still strange for Kim to recognize that she was the only one left. She'd come into The Program with four friends, and they were all dead. Her helplessness had prevented her from saving any of them, and if she wasn't careful, would prevent her from saving herself also. There was still one person out there who needed to be found, however. Kim didn't care if it branded her as a murderer or not. There was one person who had some serious karma heading her way, and Kim was ready to give it to her.

The girl took two steps and then froze. She was sure she'd heard voices, but in the playing field everything sounded like voices – from the wind through the leaves to the lapping of the ocean's waves against the shore. She'd always stop and listen, only to discover that a nearby grasshopper was happily making its unique chirping sound. But this time was different. There was no mistaking it now – the sounds were voices, softly whispering around her. She didn't dare move, and slowly the voices drifted into her ear, the girl finally picking up on their direction.

As quietly as she ever moved in her life, Kim moved quietly toward the voices. The whispers continued, and the huntress was sure she recognized one of them. Her breath caught in her throat as the idea entered her head, and exhilaration filled her body. As came even closer, she was completely sure of it: she'd finally found Gloria (Girl #22).

Kim stopped when she was worried she'd come too close and she glanced around for the source of the voices. Her eyes settled on Gloria and a boy who stood next to her, whom she didn't recognize. Kim's eyes settled on the large gun that hung from Gloria's shoulder. That was going to make things more difficult. An image flashed inside the huntress's head – an image of her friend April (Girl #15) with bullet holes all over her body. Kim sneered, knowing that it was most likely that the bitch had killed April as well.

Kim noticed that the pair was huddled over something that Gloria was holding in one of her hands. The huntress couldn't make it out right away, so she tried inching a little to the side so get a better view.

"It just turned off?" Isaac (Boy #16) asked, staring over at Gloria.

"Be quiet!" Gloria quietly hissed back, "There's someone nearby and they're going to hear us!"

Kim stretched herself over and nearly gasped in shock. In Gloria's hand was the neck collar device that had been the designated weapon of Kim's friend Naomi (Girl #11). The realization enraged Kim beyond measure. This one girl who stood before her had killed every single one of her friends. They'd all met their fate by her hands. She'd been the one Kim had been too helpless to stop.

_Now it's your turn._

Kim slowly raised her nail gun, closing one eye and looking down the tool as best she could. She aimed the device straight at the side of Gloria's head, hoping to take the girl down in one shot before she even knew what had happened. Deep inside, Kim wished to make Gloria suffer for killing the best friends she'd ever known, but that gun and the fact she had a boy with her prevented that course of action. Kim would take the opportunity given to her, and be thankful to finally avenge the deaths of her friends and anyone else who died as a result of Gloria.

The female killer, unaware of the nail gun pointed at her skull, shook the neck collar device with her good arm, almost knocking the Uzi from her shoulder. She smiled as the screen flashed alive once again, and as she looked down at it, she suddenly became aware of the dot that was situated directly to her right. She fell to the ground just as the nail sailed harmlessly over her skull and fired into the thicket.

The bullets racing all around her shocked Kim, and she could not stifle a cry of surprise as some penetrated her body. The girl fired another nail at Gloria, which missed again, and sped off in the other direction. Gloria heard the cry coming from the forest, and she easily recalled who it was, even by the simple yelp of the voice. She'd been waiting for this kill for a long time.

"Take this!" Gloria called out, handing both the collar device and her duffel bag to Isaac. She wanted nothing to slow her down, since it wasn't going to be easy to kill this target. Besides, Isaac could always find her with the tracker device again. Before Isaac could answer, Gloria was off, chasing the sound of Kim as she raced through the forest. She could just barely see Kim's body running through the shrubs of the forest, and she fired the Uzi, no longer caring about her limited supply of ammunition.

_This bitch is mine!_

Kim felt the bullets whiz by her body, and she was pretty sure that some had hit her too, but she continued running, turning back to see that Gloria was actually gaining on her. She fired the nail gun wildly behind her, hitting nothing but air. Gloria fired her gun again, this time not hitting Kim, but instead, making her duck and lose her momentum. She was going to get within killing range very soon.

_Damn it! What am I going to do now?_

Kim turned her head and fired the nail gun twice more, one missing completely, but the other scratching Gloria's cheek as it flew past. The girl continued her chase, utterly unfazed and solely determined to bring Kim down. Gloria continued to close the gap as the girls raced through the woods, and Gloria aimed with her one good arm, firing at Kim's back. The bullets were slightly off target, instead striking the arm that held Kim's nail gun. The huntress that had so suddenly become the hunted cried out and dropped her weapon. She paused, thinking to go back for it, but instead decided to keep running. However, her momentary pause had closed the gap even more, and Gloria was now close enough to get in a better shot. The girl fired the rapid fire gun and bullet holes exploded on Kim's back, a mist of blood trailing behind her and sending the girl down to the ground.

Kim silently cursed as she rolled over on to her back and stared up at Gloria, who hovered above her. Both girls gasped for air, Kim doing so between gritted teeth. Fury swept over her, unable to admit defeat to the girl who had killed all her friends.

_No! I won't lose to her. I won't!_

"April ran from me too." Gloria grinned, her chest heaving from her gasps of air, "I never thought she'd put up more a fight than you."

Kim quickly swung up her leg and kicked the gun away from her body. Upon seeing movement, Gloria instinctively pulled the trigger, the bullets barely missing Kim's head. Instead, they sailed through her ear, completely destroying it. Kim bit her cheek instead of crying out in pain, and swung her leg out again, this time planting a kick into Gloria's stomach that caused the wind to rush out of the girl.

In an instant, Kim was on her feet, once again running away from Gloria as blood gushed down the side of her face. Gloria tried to curse out loud, but had no air to do so. She fired the Uzi again, once again missing. The girl quickly got to her feet, not quite having enough air in her body, but quickly began to pursuit yet again. Rage began to build inside Gloria for underestimating Kim and allowing her that cheap shot. If the girl had had another weapon besides that nail gun, Gloria could have been killed. She wasn't about to make that mistake again. There would be no time for taunts anymore – Kim would have no more second chances.

Kim could hear Gloria running behind her, but she didn't caution a look. Things were looking bad for her. She had no weapon and it didn't appear that Gloria was going to allow her to escape. Both were playing for keeps, and Kim found herself at a significant disadvantage. The run and blood loss were already taking their toll on her body, and even though Gloria was surely getting tired as well, she'd no doubt catch up to Kim and finish the murder before allowing herself to rest. Plus there was the danger of accidentally wandering into a danger zone, which was very possible since Kim didn't have her map out. And there was also-

An idea suddenly struck the girl. Her mind raced through the possibilities, but it appeared that this was the only way to avenge her friends' deaths. She thought back, as hard as she could, and the piece of paper appeared inside her head. Her memory was never particularly good, but she could see what she needed with her mind's eye. Saying a little prayer, Kim suddenly changed directions, heading what she hoped was east. Gloria didn't notice the change and continued the chase.

Kim discreetly snuck her hand into her pocket and pulled out a round object, staring at it for a moment and then slipping it back in. Bullets whizzed by her as the gun roared loudly from behind her. Kim couldn't feel any new pain, and so she guessed that no new bullets had hit her. She could feel the sticky blood from her back soaking through her shirt and trickling down her body. She could only guess how much longer she'd last.

Gloria snarled as she fired the gun again, fully aware that her ammunition was running thin, and that she'd have to do something to finish Kim off before all the bullets were gone. The girl pushed herself harder, forcing her legs to move faster and faster. Kim was slowing down – it was only going to be a matter of time before Gloria caught up to her and finished her for good.

Up ahead of her, Kim could see an opening. She didn't realize she'd get there so soon, but that didn't matter. Everything would fall into place soon enough. She broke through the edge of the forest and saw various houses stretch out before her. She smiled to herself, thankful that her memory had served her well. She continued running and heard Gloria grunt behind her as she entered the residential area.

_That stupid whore, she's got no more trees for cover._

Gloria smiled wickedly as she raised the gun and fired, the bullets easily penetrating Kim's back. She allowed herself to fall, preparing herself for the final confrontation. She pulled the object from her pocket and glanced at it one last time. She smiled widely on the ground.

_Perfect._

Gloria wasted no time. She ran to the body on the ground and fired madly. Kim could feel the bullets shake her body unnaturally, but she felt no pain. She closed her eyes, seeing her friends on stage before her. They all huddled around a single microphone, their mouths moving together. It took a few moments for Kim to realize that they were singing.

"You think I'd crumble?" they all sang together, "You think I'd lay down and die? Oh no, not I!"

Kim smiled at the horribly ironic song and watched as each of her friends recognized her presence. April waved up her on stage and Naomi smiled warmly at the sight of her friend. Cassie (Girl #4) continued singing but reached out for Kim to join her. It was Taryn (Girl #3) who jumped off the stage and grabbed Kim's hand, leading her up to where the microphone stood. Kim looked out and recognized a few faces, including Genevive (Girl #20) who sat off to one side with two of her male friends, and she also spied her softball teammate Shaina (Girl #12) towards the back.

Kim joined in with her friends, singing as loud as she could without worry, the spotlight shining on the five of them.

"I will survive!"

_I'm not helpless. Not anymore._

* * *

Gloria stared down at the riddled corpse that had been Girl #17 – Kim. She smiled evilly and swung out her foot, kicking the dead body for added desecration. Gloria wasn't sure which had surprised her more – Kim running into the open or the fact that she had died with a smile on her face. It was almost disappointing. Gloria had always imagined that Kim would fight until the very end, but instead she'd run right into a residential area-

Gloria looked down and froze. She could see still clutched in Kim's hand the object she'd glanced at twice. The girl bent down and ripped it from the corpse's hand, watching the seconds slowly tick away. Gloria was confused at first, wondering why Kim would waste her time staring at a clock instead of running for her life. Her eyes opened wide with fear as she glanced around her.

_Residential area…_

Gloria gasped as she thought back to the map, realizing what Kim had done. A cold sweat erupted from the girl's body as she glanced back at the watch. The new danger zone would be activated in less than 45 seconds, and unless Gloria was wrong, she was located to one side of area 23, the new danger zone.

_No. There's no way that bitch led me into the new danger zone. She wasn't even looking at a map! There's no way-_

Forty seconds remained. Gloria forgot the part of her that explained that there was no possible way for Kim to lead her here. She ignored the fact that Kim could have led her to somewhere else, thinking it was block 23. Thirty seconds. She ignored the part of her that explained that only a small part of the new danger zone was residential area, that she was most likely safe inside some other block. But Gloria knew what Kim had done, and despite all the things that could have gone wrong with Kim's plan, Gloria knew that nothing had. She knew that Kim had been correct. Gloria hissed with rage as her good hand tightened into a fist. She stared down at what remained of Kim's smile. Twenty seconds.

"NO!" Gloria screamed and aimed the gun at the corpse. She pulled the trigger, watching the bullets splash into what remained of Kim's body. She held the trigger down until the gun stopped on its own. Gloria had run out of ammunition. However, the hatred still flowed through her body.

"You stupid BITCH!" Gloria screeched raising her foot and stomping Kim's smiling face into submission. She felt teeth crack and rearrange beneath her foot and the cranium eventually gave way so that Gloria was squashing what remained of Kim's brain and skull, but she refused to stop until Kim's entire head was completely gone. She collapsed to the ground in a heap, her eyes settled on the watch that told her she had five seconds to live.

"Why?" Gloria stared up at the sky, "Why is my moment now? I was the one fighting to survive! I'm the one who DESERVES IT!"

Gloria released one last cry – one that contained grief, fury, resentment, hopelessness, but most of all, defeat. The second hand hit the twelve on the watch near Gloria's body. She didn't even have time to gasp as the collar around her neck beeped twice and exploded, eliminating one of the major female contenders from The Program.

* * *

Matt (Boy #20) stumbled through the forest in his own world, created from his own insanity. The Kevlar vest, which he still considered to be armor with protective magical properties, continued to hug his torso. His designated weapon had saved his life on many occasions, but in order for him to gain some experience to tackle the final Boss at the end of this game, he'd need some other weapons. Sure, armor was great to have, but his magic spells weren't having the effect he was hoping they would. Matt guessed that the people running The Program had a very powerful blue mage, able to counter every magic spell from the playing field. It was good thing that Matt knew all about the loopholes of magic. He doubted anyone else would realize that while magic was outlawed, equipment with magical properties, like his vest, would still be active. If only he could find "The Swords of Revealing Light" or "Excalibur" or something.

The boy moved slowly, almost sure that he'd heard gunfire from here earlier. And even his Blastoise didn't stand a chance against a gun. Well, unless he used the "Withdraw" technique, followed by a-

Matt's foot caught something on the ground and he plummeted forward, slamming his face into the damp soil. He raised his head, spitting out some mud and cursing in the Elven language. He glanced down to the object he'd tripped over, and held it up to examine it more closely. It was the nail gun that still felt warm from where Kim had gripped it for hours on end.

The boy smiled widely at his new toy, thinking it to be more than a simple nail gun inside his twisted mind. Wasn't it funny how he got exactly what he needed when he needed it? Matt stared up through the trees at the break in the dark clouds. The sun shone out momentarily and it warmed him, before being covered by the clouds once more. The light drizzle began again.

The boy chuckled slightly as he continued on his way, pulling out his Enemy Seeker (compass) and the paper describing the Secret Underground Tunnels (map). These would help him find some new opponents and raise some levels. He gazed down at his new weapon one last time before disappearing into the forest.

"Praise be to Yevon."

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 23, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 43, 48, 50, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: none

(10) Contestants remaining


	53. Parental Supervision

The rain had finally stopped, but the sky remained a dark grey. Leslie (Girl #25) stared up at the small patches of sky that could be seen through the tops of the trees. Even if the clouds weren't there to block out the sun, the sky would still be slightly dark. The fiery orb wouldn't be stationed in the sky for very much longer. Leslie's watch told her that only an hour remained before the next announcement would be broadcasted through the playing field. After that, it was only going to be another six hours before the second day would be declared over. And then, after that, only one more day would remain for a winner to be named. It seemed so close and so far away at the same time. She wondered what would happen before a winner was declared.

Leslie's head drooped forward to the ground, almost as if it had become too heavy to lift on her own. She peeked sideways at Connor (Boy #4) who was lying next to her on the ground. His breathing had become more labored, and even though he would attempt to hide it, his body would clench as intense pain shot through it. These episodes were slowly becoming more and more frequent. Leslie would manage to chat with the boy every once in a while, like she knew he wanted, but it always appeared to be too much of a strain to carry a conversation for Connor. Leslie had tried to just sit there and talk, but that had never been her strong suit. The majority of the time the two existed in silence, both of them thinking too much and saying too little.

"Okay," Connor wheezed, "Here's what we're going to do." Leslie turned all of her attention on the boy, finding herself anxiously awaiting what he would say next. Would he tell her to go on without him, or to try and lift him up so they could keep moving? Or was this not about their performance in The Program? Maybe there was something else he felt compelled to tell her…

_Calm down, you idiot. What the hell do I care what he has to say? Strong people rely on actions, not on words._

"We're each going to tell each other a memory of our life that stands out among the others." Leslie's eyebrows rose slightly, feeling dumb for thinking he had something of importance to mention. She thought about what Connor had suggested, but no memories came to her. This didn't surprise her, however. The memories of her life before she was sent to live with her abusive uncle were too much for her to handle. Leslie could not allow herself to remember the comforting way her mother would sing to her or how her father would play hide and seek with her when he came home from work. Those types of memories would have forced Leslie to realize just how miserable her position was after they were murdered. Slowly, she allowed herself to forget her parents, so that she could continue living with her uncle. And even though she practically forgot them, she never forgot how her parents made her feel.

But this came with a steep price. She barely remembered her loving parents, and every memory that existed inside her head somehow involved her uncle. Needless to say that none of them gave her any joy, and they were all so similar that none stood out above the rest. There was the first time he'd beat her so bad, Leslie was sent to the hospital. There were also all those times that her uncle would chat with the policemen after some neighbor called them to stop the noise of Leslie's screams. Everyone, including the policemen, knew what was going on in the little apartment, but no one saw any need to stop it.

A rage stirred inside the girl when she recalled that absolutely everyone around her had abandoned her in her time of need. Leslie knew that everyone grasps to something when they are left alone - the one thing that people held tightly to when everything and everyone deserted them. Nearly everyone had that one special thing, and those that didn't, didn't make it. Leslie had been lucky enough to have her strength to keep her going.

"You go first." Connor wheezed and waited for Leslie to begin. The girl opened her mouth to tell her companion that all her memories were the same: they all involved avoiding her uncle at all costs in the hopes of avoiding the beatings that he brought. Until, of course, she learned to fight, where the beatings became evasion practice. Why couldn't she remember anything else? Was everything else that unimportant?

An image flashed inside her head. An image of a dream that she'd had one or two times. Leslie wasn't sure if it was a memory or not, but it had occurred several times during her life. She decided to skip the part where she explained that this story was not much more than that.

"One of the earliest memories I have," Leslie said, "Is when I'm sitting on a carousel. And I'm holding tight to the pole in the middle of the horse, because I'm afraid of falling off."

Leslie could tell that Connor's listening attentively because his painful breathing quieted so that nothing would interrupt her. She watched his chest slowly rise and fall and she noted that he even quieted the tremor of pain surging through his body. He wanted nothing to distract her. The least she could do was be grateful for his consideration.

"I look behind me to see if one of my parents is there with me, but all I see is another horse, with its teeth bared staring back at me. I stare out at the group of parents watching their kids spin around and around, but I can't find my parents."

It almost looked like Connor has stopped breathing. For a moment, Leslie almost believed that Connor was merely tired and was simply resting on the ground instead of slowly dying from a gunshot wound. Meanwhile, the boy seemed to forget the torture running rampant in his body. He silently waited for Leslie to discuss the memory of her murdered parents.

"I can hear kids laughing and see them waving at adults who wave back. But I don't see my parents anywhere. But then the ride stops, and I feel two arms wrap around my body and lift me into their arms." Leslie paused. This was the point where'd she usually wake up feeling like a part of her was being ripped out of her body. But she couldn't end her story like that, or else Connor would know that it wasn't a true memory.

"And then I can see my mother's face, and she kisses me on the forehead. She puts me on the ground and points a few feet away where my father is crouched on the ground, his arms open to welcome me in a hug if I can walk to him."

Connor noticed the slight difference in Leslie's voice. She was talking faster, but the words also sounded like they had trouble coming out, like the girl didn't know what was going to happen next. Like she was making it up as she went along. But she hadn't said everything in that manner. The first part had been truthful, but Connor was left wondering why her memory would stop so abruptly.

"And I'm walking slowly towards him, and he hugs me when I reach him." Leslie stopped, thinking that she had said enough.

"That was…a nice memory." Connor smiled, his eyes still squeezed shut. His breathing returned to normal - loud and difficult. "It's my turn now, huh?"

Leslie wanted to tell him it was okay if it was too difficult for him to speak, but again, she stopped herself from sounding too concerned. Even if she couldn't fool herself into thinking she couldn't care less about the boy at her side, there was no reason for him to realize that. Weakness had slowly inched itself into her being, and Leslie was having trouble removing it again.

_Maybe it will be easier after Connor dies._

A cloud of anxiety settled on her at that moment. Connor was going to die, and Leslie had no idea how long it was going to be. However, the concept upset her more than she was aware. She did not want Connor to die, and the fact that she was only thinking about herself and downplaying Connor's gradual descent into death bothered her. She looked over at him and considered apologizing for her thought process, of which Connor had no knowledge, but stopped herself when the boy began to speak.

"This one time, when I must have been only ten years old, my father took me and my older brother, Charlie, fishing. We had the best time, the three of us. We got up earlier than I've ever been up before and fished until the sun was setting. My brother caught the biggest fish I'd ever seen – it was as long as I was. My father was talking about the great meal our mom would be able to make from that massive fish."

Leslie stared as a surge of pain raced through him, and he gasped, holding his breath until it eventually passed. The girl wanted to reach out to him and somehow steal away the pain that rocked his entire body, knowing that her superior strength would able to handle the hurt more easily. But there was no way to transfer pain, and Leslie was left admiring Connor's growing strength as he endured more and more from his wound.

"But on the trip back to the mainland, I noticed Charlie watching the fish he caught. And when our dad wasn't looking, he dragged the fish from the cooler and over the edge of the boat. My dad heard the splash and thought one of us had fallen into the water, and I thought he was going to be mad when he found out what my brother had done. But he smiled. My brother told him that he didn't want to separate the fish from its family. And my dad said that the fish was happy to be able to go back after coming so close to death. And it was also happy to be able to see everyone it cares about again."

Leslie listened to the words, allowing herself to see the scene play out inside her mind. But when she attempted to picture the ocean, the only landscape she could see was the water just off the coast of the beach located within the playing field. She opened her eyes, quitting her endeavor to see the story inside her head.

Connor laughed weakly, "It's so funny to think about my big and tough brother feeling sorry for a fish and setting it free. The army man taking pity on a fish." He chuckled some more. "I guess it's no wonder why this memory is sticking out in my mind now. I think I want to be that fish, to be snatched from the jaws of death and returned to my family in one piece."

Leslie ignored the sympathy gnawing at her as she stared over at the boy. He chuckled again before another shudder of pain racked his body. When he unclenched his hands and allowed his body to relax again, Leslie spoke, "You know, that memory you just told me. I'm not surprised your brother let the fish go. If he's anything like you, I'm not surprised at all. That's something you'd do."

Connor squinted through one eye at the girl sitting close to him, but far enough away to see the side of her face. He smiled discreetly and then removed it quickly from his face. He didn't want to explain the smile on his face. He hadn't spent all that much time with Leslie, but already she knew him pretty well. She already knew that it wasn't his brother who had let that fish go – it had been Connor.

The two sat in a now comfortable silence, slightly lost in their thoughts, slightly lost in each other. They both seemed more aware of the bond the two of them now shared. The boy and the girl were more similar than they looked. They had both entered The Program alone. Neither had any attachment to any of the other contestants, and yet, neither of them wanted to play. Both refused to play. They both stood a considerably chance of winning if they had decided to play to their full potential – Leslie with her fighting skills and Connor with his survival knowledge. But they refused to kill. And through everything, they had found each other.

"Thanks for sharing." Connor smirked.

"You too."

* * *

"Honey, I have great news." Bruce (Boy #23) sighed from his seat across the breakfast table. Whenever his stepmother began a conversation with his father like that, it usually ended up being the complete opposite of great news. Like, "Great news honey, I just bought us a new car to replace the one I accidentally backed into that tree." Or, "Guess what? I have some great news. I've hired someone to completely redecorate this house! Now we won't have to deal with that ugly green color in the living room anymore." The great news usually involved his stepmother spending money on something completely unnecessary, and Bruce knew what would happen if he brought it to his parents' attention. The last time he interfered and told his stepmother that golf memberships was a waste of time and money, she'd turned on the waterworks, and Bruce had gotten yelled at by his father. The memberships had been purchased, and both of them had yet to go golfing. He sighed and waited for his stepmother to finish her "great news".

"What is it?" Bruce's father replied, pulling out his wallet. Bruce wondered if he knew he was doing that or if it had become too routine to notice.

"I'm pregnant!" she cried out, the widest smile on her face Bruce had ever seen.

"What!" Bruce and his father gasped at the same time. This reaction didn't sway the woman, and she stood up from her seat and rushed over to Bruce's father, wrapping him in a giant hug.

"Isn't it wonderful, honey?" she cooed, "Soon, you and I will have the family we've always wanted!"

Bruce allowed his fork to clatter to the plate in front of him, and both of the adults turned their attention to him. His stepmother's last comment continued to ring in the boy's ears. "Aren't you excited, Bruce?" his stepmother addressed him with a coy smile, "Soon you'll have a baby brother or sister, and we can all be one big happy family."

Bruce smiled back as best he could, but there was no mistake in what was happening. When he thought back to that moment, Bruce wondered why he was so surprised. He should have seen this coming ever since his father married his stepmother. She was never too happy with Bruce's existence, despite what she claimed – Bruce was sure of this. But this finally proved it.

_I'm being replaced._

Bruce looked at his father, who seemed too stunned for words. He couldn't tell if his father was happy by this news or not, but Bruce knew what was going to happen. Even if his father wasn't thrilled by the thought of another child, his stepmother's constant mention of it would slowly change his mind. If she kept telling him he was happy about the new baby, then soon he would be, just like she must have told him to forget about Bruce.

"Well, Bruce," his stepmother continued, "Aren't you going to congratulate us?"

He could no longer hide his contempt. His stepmother was going to continue to throw this in his face? Fine. Bruce's father could sit back and let this woman run his life all she wanted. But Bruce would not allow her to get inside his head. She thought that Bruce's father would be enough to keep him in order? She was dead wrong. As far as Bruce was concerned, this was the straw that broke the camel's back. No more gracious courtesy, no more holding back his tongue, and no more backing down.

"Of course," Bruce said so sarcastically that it even surprised himself, "Congratulations for fucking so much, that you were able to conceive a baby despite all the birth control you've been taking that you leave lying all around the house."

Bruce took in the sight of his stepmother's eyes growing wide and her mouth dropping open for just a moment, before turning his back. His father called out his name in an angry tone, like he was preparing to scold his son for being disrespectful. But Bruce was already gone. The door slammed shut behind him as he marched out to the driveway and hopped into his car. And soon he was speeding away, the image of his stepmother's shocked face his only consolation.

He wasn't sure where he was going. All Bruce knew was that he couldn't go home – not right away at least. He looked down to see his cell phone ringing and recognized his father's number flashing on the screen. He let the phone ring until it finally stopped on its own, sending a notice to Bruce that he had a new voicemail. The boy erased it without listening. He just continued driving, allowing the songs to play on the radio but not really listening to them. Before he even realized it, the boy had arrived at Jeff's (Boy #22) house and was shutting off his car.

Bruce walked up to the front door in a daze, ringing the doorbell and seeing Jeff's father appear in the doorframe. The man looked at the boy with minimal expression and with no term of welcome.

"I'll get Jeff for you." He mumbled and disappeared back into the house. Bruce had had limited interaction with Jeff's parents, and he wondered if Jeff got his demeanor from his harsh-looking father. The front door remained open, but for some reason, Bruce didn't feel comfortable entering until he was welcomed in. He didn't hear Jeff's father call him, but soon Jeff appeared in the doorway, quickly examining Bruce like his father had.

"Come in." Jeff said, stepping aside for Bruce to enter. Bruce smiled weakly and moved inside, Jeff closing the door behind them. He then took the lead, guiding Bruce up to his room and then closing that door as well, giving the two boys complete privacy. Bruce expected Jeff to ask him why he had shown up out of the blue. It was still relatively early, and it looked like Jeff had risen not long ago. But no questions were asked. Jeff hooked up his Xbox and handed a controller to Bruce, starting the Halo videogame on Co-op play. They played together in silence, neither bothering to mention what was happening.

Time slowly crawled by, and the game continued. Hours passed, and soon the game was over – the boys had beaten it together. Jeff stood up, letting the credits roll on his screen and glanced over at Bruce for the first time in a while.

"Something to drink?" he asked. Bruce shook his head and Jeff walked over to his closed door. He reached for the doorknob, but stopped and instead let his hand fall to his side. He turned his head slightly, staring at Bruce out of the corner of one eye.

"Something wrong?"

The question was so simple. To most, it would have appeared that the question had occurred to Jeff as a mere afterthought, and that he couldn't really care less about the answer. Jeff's seemingly apathetic stance and short emotionless sentences would have convinced anyone else that the boy's heart was stone cold. But Bruce had been Jeff's friend long enough to know the difference. He glanced up from where he had been staring at the ground and stared back at the glance from his best friend, and slowly shook his head.

Jeff spun his head back around and shrugged slightly, opening his door and vanishing through it. Bruce opened his mouth to call out to his friend, to yell and scream out all the frustration building inside his body. But slowly, his mouth closed and he returned to his position of staring down at the ground. He didn't even hear Jeff reenter the room.

"My mother says you can stay for dinner." Jeff said. Bruce looked up and saw his friend extending Bruce's favorite soda towards him. Jeff took a swig of his own and pushed the soda forward a little, motioning Bruce to take it. The boy reached out and grabbed it since he had, in fact, been very thirsty, and he recognized for the hundredth time that Jeff could read Bruce like no other. It was as if he knew Bruce better than the boy knew himself.

"Thank you." Bruce replied quietly. Silence settled over the two of them again as they noiselessly sipped their drinks. They played some more videogames in silence until it was time for dinner. Jeff's father took his dinner into his study and his mother plopped herself down in front of the television, nibbling on some salad. Jeff led Bruce out onto their screened off porch and they ate there, watching the sky grow dark. It wasn't until they had finished eating that the silence was finally broken.

"Maybe it's about time I headed back." Bruce mentioned. Jeff nodded in agreement and walked him out to his car. Bruce paused before getting in and glanced at his friend. "Thanks for letting me spend the day here." Jeff nodded again and turned back to his house. Bruce wondered why it wasn't until Jeff was leaving him that he felt the urge to tell him what had happened. He sighed and drove his car back home.

Bruce's father was there to greet him when he walked back in the house. There was no smile on his face, and instead he marched Bruce over to the closed door that led to his parents' bedroom.

"Your stepmother has been in here crying all day." His father said sternly, "Go in and apologize."

Bruce felt the anger he had felt that morning rise inside his body once again. He didn't want to apologize to his stepmother, but he decided that, for the moment, it was the best thing to do. He didn't intend to let things go back to the way they had been, but he knew that hostility was going to make things more difficult. At least if everyone pretended nothing was wrong, living inside the house would be that much more bearable. He stepped forward and grabbed the doorknob, but slowly let his hand drop to his side. He turned his head slightly, gazing at his father out of the corner of one eye.

"I don't know what Mom ever saw in you."

His father gasped and stepped back like Bruce had pulled out his self defense and punched the man square in the gut. It was the most emotion his father had displayed (besides anger) since his mother's death. Before Bruce's father could respond, the boy swung open the door and shut it behind him.

Bruce's stepmother lay on the bed before him, softly crying into the pillow. She gazed up when she heard the door close and sat up when she saw it was her stepson. The woman gazed back at the door, like she expected it to open and see her husband enter too. But the door remained closed, so she turned all her attention to the boy before her. Bruce looked at the woman's crying eyes, and saw that they were not puffy or red.

_Crying all day…bullshit._

"I'm here to apologize." Bruce said as politely as he could, "So…sorry."

His stepmother opened her mouth to say something, but instead shut it and nodded, wiping a tear from beneath one eye. With that, Bruce turned around and left the room, glancing at his father as he passed by and walked to his own bedroom, shutting himself in for the rest of the night.

* * *

Bruce sighed as he shook the memory away. He gazed up at the trees, figuring that there were most likely cameras hidden in some of them. It was easiest to keep track to contestants if you could see them. From what he could remember about previous seasons of The Program, the footage was never live, and uninteresting parts were cut from the footage. After all, people enjoyed fight scenes and character interactions, but not much beyond that. He wondered if his father was watching to see how he'd do.

_He's probably not. After all, what does he care? He's got a kid on the way, and I'm all but out of the picture. What more could he ask for?_

Bruce trudged off into the forest surrounding him, hoping that he would run into his remaining friends soon, before time ran out. Off to his right, a cleverly hidden camera watched the boy's every movement. The signal that connected the camera to a satellite sent the image of Bruce to a viewing screen, where one of many people watched the boy standing there lost in thought. The man sighed in frustration, deleting the image as Bruce moved out of range. After all, no one would want to watch a boy standing in the middle of the forest.

* * *

Many miles away, a man sat directly in front of the television. He sat way too close to be good for his eyes, but he was determined not to miss anything. His wife walked from behind him, her stomach jutting out ahead of her. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Have there been any new updates?" she asked.

"No." Bruce's father replied simply, his eyes still glued to the screen in front of him. His wife questioned whether to tell him to move away from the television, but instead decided against it, removing her hand from his shoulder. She took a few steps back and turned around.

"I'm off to buy more baby clothes." She said slowly, "It's never too early to give a child a sense of fashion, right?"

Bruce's father muttered something incoherent as a reply. His stepmother sighed both in frustration and depression and left the house without murmuring a goodbye. Bruce's father watched intensely as the station played a quick scene of Bruce standing directly over Isaac's (Boy #16) body holding the katana, and a deep voice asked the audience whether Bruce would kill the other boy in the next episode. The man reached a hand up to the screen and placed his hand in the center of his son's chest. A single tear, unnoticed by its creator, raced down the man's face.

_Bruce, please come back to me._

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 23, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 43, 48, 50, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: none

(10) Contestants remaining


	54. Announcements part 7

The sound of the loudspeaker screeching to life woke Molly (Girl #9) with a start. She glanced around her frantically, thinking that she was under attack, but her eyes settled on the only other person in the room. Kara (Girl #24) continued to sleep through the noise. Molly nearly laughed out loud when she saw her friend, since the girl had fallen asleep standing up leaning against a window. She considered trying to move her friend to the floor where she would undoubtedly be more comfortable, but then decided against it. If Molly woke up Kara, the girl would insist on staying awake, and not necessarily get the amount of rest she needed. Even though she appeared uncomfortable and slightly comical, Kara was resting, and Molly knew that that was most important.

Molly pulled out her map as she silently awaited the announcement to begin. She didn't have to wait long.

* * *

_"Good evening, contestants! Once again, I have returned after six hours to report the dead and the new areas designated danger zones. Why am I in such a chipper mood you may ask? Well, that's because it appears that our season on The Program is slowly drawing to a close. That's right little warriors, of the fifty students who began this game, only ten remain. If you do the math, then your original 2 survival percentage has risen to 10. Still doesn't sound like good odds? Well, remember little warriors that a 50 survival percentage means that you are one of two remaining people. 10 doesn't sound so bad anymore, does it? That's enough of a math lesson – it's time to announce which four contestants no longer pose a threat to you remaining contestants. The first death would be Boy # 19 – Nathan. This boy lost his duffel bag containing his map, compass, food, and water very early in the game – I'm surprised he lasted this long. Next up, weighing in at 260 pounds of muscle, we have the largest contestant ever to take part in The Program, Boy #15 – Sid. For those of you keeping track, this means that the final member of our notorious gang has officially left the building. Next up we have another final member of a group included in this season's game, and it is the very intimidating Girl #17 – Kim. I'd like everyone out there to know that this girl, along with each one of her friends, died at the hands of one single person. I'd offer my congratulations to this contestant, if she had not been the final elimination. She, unfortunately, did not have the foresight to see when she was walking into a trap, and so we were robbed of Girl #22 – Gloria. I hope you'll excuse me for portraying my disappointment of this girl's death, but if not, it's not like you can do anything about it anyways. On to our last order of business. Time's slowly winding down, little warriors. Our record is a mere 7 and half hours away! Don't be intimidated by the coming night, fight for the win at all costs! The first area to become a danger zone is zone 51, which becomes active at the end of this announcement. In two hours, area 26 becomes active. And finally, at ten tonight, the final area that is forbidden is zone 46 – be wary of this one little warriors, since if you check your maps, you'll see that this last zone is very close to the center of the playing field. I will return in six hours to (hopefully) give the last set of announcements of this season. Happy hunting!"_

* * *

Molly quickly scribbled the last few pieces of information down onto her map. She stared down at it and exhaled deeply. Only ten kids remained. She recalled sitting back in the classroom, the 49 other students being informed of their situation and listening to the rules. Back then, she'd found it near impossible to consider the fact that nearly everyone in that room was going to die within the next few days. But already, eighty percent of the students who had started The Program along with her had died, and this large amount included three of her friends. Molly closed her eyes and pictured that classroom once again filled with frightened kids, and then slowly erased them from her mind until only ten remained. It shocked her to see so many disappear, and it forced her to recognize the large loss of life this game demanded.

The girl had attempted to keep track of who remained in the game, but that was too difficult early on when there were so many contestants to keep track of. The fact that they continued to drop like flies didn't help her mental list. Instead, she decided to keep track of her friends.

Derek (Boy #2) had been the first of her friends to die, and even though he was the one she felt closest to, his death didn't truly affect her until later in the game. She had focused so greatly on finding her other friends that she wasn't able to deal with the grief until she had met up with Kara. Genevive (Girl #21) had been next, and even though she had been sad to hear of her friend's death, Molly was proud of her for attempting to remove the collars like the announcement had mentioned after reading off her name. That was exactly the type of way Genevive would have wanted to go out – not giving up hope until the very end. Molly only wished that she had been successful. When her third good friend, Justin (Boy #18), had died, she had started to panic, thinking that her friends were quickly being eliminated all around her, and that she would not be able to see them ever again. Molly had been so thankful to finally run into Kara.

But Molly had not run out of friends. Three were gone, but she'd found one, and two more were still out in the playing field. Of the nine other contestants, Molly was good friends with three of them. She was not surprised that Bruce (Boy #23) was still out there somewhere, since, despite his sacrificial nature, he would not go down without a fight. And Bruce could fight. Her last remaining friend was the very quiet Jeff (Boy #22).

Since Molly was not particularly quiet herself, it took her a little while to become accustomed to Jeff's method of doing things. He exhibited little to no emotion and only spoke when necessary. Molly had thought he was some kind of distant robot, and could not see herself becoming friends with the boy at all. But there had been more to him than she had guessed. Jeff was quicker and more nimble than most would guess. He was an incredible listener, since he never interrupted anyone, and he had a unique…awareness about him. He was very observant, and he had the uncanny ability to know what was bothering his friends or to address problems before they arose. And still he said so little. Once she had learned all this new information about her friend, Molly found herself wondering more about her mysterious friend. But she had only asked about his past once, and the fury that rose in his eyes was enough to prevent her from asking again.

The girl glanced over at her companion inside the small room. From what she had told Molly, Kara had been with Justin right before he was murdered. In fact, there was a good chance that Kara would not be alive if Justin had not stayed behind to give her time to escape. But that kind of act weighs heavy on the person who was able to survive. Wasn't there some kind of survivor's guilt that came with a game like this? In order to live, others must die. What kind of burden leaves the playing field along with the winner? What kind of person can continue to function normally knowing that their existence caused the deaths of 49 others?

Molly shook her head slowly and placed a hand on her forehead, resting it there for a moment. Thinking this much put a large strain on her. If she considered what happened to the winner of The Program, then she would have to face the fact that three of her friends or possibly herself had died. Not to mention there was still the fact that only ten contestants remained and time was slowing running out. It would not be long before people became desperate. Who knew what could happen before a winner was named?

The girl slipped the map back into her duffel bag and pulled out some leftover dehydrated jerky. She took a bite and forced the salty substance down before shoving back into the bag along with her other items. She gazed over Kara, still sound asleep against the window, and once again refrained from waking her. They would both need their strength. Molly reached into her bag one last time and pulled her designated weapon from it. She wrapped the string end of the yo-yo over one finger and clutched the large part in her hand. True, her weapon was most definitely sub-par, but it still gave her some sense of security, even by simply holding it.

Molly reclined onto the floor and stared up at the ceiling as the sky outside grew ever darker.

* * *

Isaac (Boy #16) sighed as he stared at the map before him. He attempted to devise some sort of plan, but quickly gave up, realizing he was too distracted. It's not as though Gloria's death came as a complete surprise to him. Honestly, he had expected Gloria back a while ago, and when she didn't show, his first thought had not been that she was lost – it had been that she was dead.

Why was there so much going through his mind at that moment? Isaac would have preferred it if he could simply make up his mind how he felt and stick with it. Unfortunately, Gloria's death had brought more of a response that he had anticipated. He was relieved that he no longer had to worry about being with her in the endgame. In fact, he was completely uninhibited in his performance now that he didn't need to worry that Gloria, without warning, would turn that Uzi on him. The gun brought up another emotion, since he was slightly annoyed that Gloria had gone off and died with that powerful weapon in her possession. At least she had left behind the collar detector, even if it was still malfunctioning. But a part of Isaac mourned the loss of his girlfriend. The boy's only friends had been his customers, and his mother was constantly working in an attempt to provide for her son, since she was unaware of his drug funds. This left Gloria as the only person Isaac could connect with on some level. And even though he wouldn't admit it, Isaac was beginning to experience the fear of being alone in The Program. Even when he and Gloria were separated, the fact that she was still out there somewhere was enough to comfort the boy. But she was now gone, and Isaac had no more allies. Everyone had become the enemy.

However, the announcement had brought some good news. The numbers were still dwindling, and with only nine other contestants to kill, Isaac was beginning to feel extremely confident. Sure, his deformed hand put him at a slight disadvantage, but his weaponry seemed to make up for it. His machete was still sharp enough to cleave a skull open. His grenades could be used if things became complicated. And the collar detector device should make finding the other contestants easy. Assuming he could get it to work.

Isaac pulled the gadget from the duffel bag Gloria had left with him and slipped it into his own. He searched through it for any extra food or water and placed it into his own bag. Carrying one bag was a lot easier than two. He checked it one last time and then tossed it into the foliage nearby. He paused for a moment, making sure that no one responded to the noise he had made, and then determined that no one was nearby.

Suddenly confronted with the understanding that he didn't know where any of the other contestants could be, Isaac pulled the handheld device out again and stared at the blank cracked screen. He wasn't sure how to make it work, and didn't want to risk breaking it further. He lightly tapped the side against his palm, seeing the screen light up and then die again. He tapped again, slightly harder this time, but the screen stayed blank. Isaac sighed and placed the device on the ground in front of him. Instantly, the device sprang to life. The boy smiled and picked it up again, only to watch the screen fade. With a hiss of frustration, he tossed the gadget into his bag, telling himself that he'd see if it'd work for him later.

* * *

Bruce released an exhale of relief. No more of his friends had died. Of the nine other contestants that remained, three were his friends. That meant that the next set of announcements would most likely bring bad news. Kids were still dying, which meant that some were still playing. And from the sound of the announcements, it appeared that some of them were aiming for that new record. He needed to find them, before someone else did.

But once again, Bruce was confronted with the possibility of finding Jeff again. He'd gone back and forth with what to do when he found his friend that he'd officially given up at that point. He could plan and anticipate what would happen, but there was no way to know for sure. And there was no guarantee that Bruce would ever see Jeff again. If the boy continued to play to win, there was a good chance that eventually, he'd get into a fight and lose. There were far too many variables that were beyond Bruce's control, and so he decided to stop thinking so much about it. Kara and Molly were still out there, and they would need Bruce's protection more than Jeff did.

Bruce thought back to the announcement, and recalled the last two female names read off. If Bruce correctly, way back into the very early hours of The Program, Kim and Gloria were both part of the same group that he had come across. And then he'd met Kim again alone in the city region. Hadn't the announcement said that Gloria had killed all of Kim's friends? Did that mean she took out everyone in that group? It certainly didn't happen all at the same time, since Bruce remembered hearing two other girl's names read off later. He couldn't even imagine what must have happened to all of them. But he recalled that girl who had taken self defense at the same place he did, April (Girl #15), had asked him to join their group. He remembered being slightly intrigued by the offer, since she was putting a lot of faith in him for the entire group. And it hadn't been Kim's hard stare that made him turn it down. Bruce refused the safety in numbers in order to find his friends. Nearly two days later, they were all dead. He guessed that he had made the correct decision.

It was strange how choice seemed to play such a large role in The Program. Bruce had turned down the invitation to join with the group of girls. Maybe if he had joined them, things would have turned out different. Maybe if he searched places in a different order, he'd have found his friends by now. A simple change in direction affects where a contestant ends up, and their presence alone is enough to change the outcome of everything.

Bruce's head spun with the possibilities floating around in his head. He shook them away, knowing that he could not know what would happen if different choices were made. Some people could be alive. Others could be dead. No one knew for sure, and so there was no reason to attempt to figure it all out. Bruce had enough things to deal with as it was. He still had friends to find who had eluded him for almost two days. He needed to find them in the next six hours. He didn't care very much what happened to him, but he was going to make sure that no one harmed his friends, as long as he was still alive and kicking.

* * *

Matt (Boy #20) felt the conviction running through his veins. Lord Smith had once again finished clarifying the insider knowledge for all noble warriors. The boy waited to see if the overseer would send a message directed toward the budding paladin, but no decree was sent. Matt did not let this faze him. He placed the map back into his duffel bag and took a long breath. Despite his inability to claim a kill for himself, his experience was clearly improving. After all, he hadn't survived this long on luck alone.

The boy could remember way back when The Program had begun, and the intense fear that had racked his brain. But slowly, everything had started to make sense. His enchanted vest protected him time after time. Matt became aware of his lacking stats, and looked to improve his stealthy ninja skills along with his physical and magical melee abilities. He had come far from that moment in time. Other warriors lacking the necessary amount of experience were eliminated, and Matt had been rewarded for his hard work by finding the rocket launcher.

He held up the nail gun, his mind distorting the shape to resemble a much more powerful weapon. He admired the object before returning it to his side. Not many other warriors would have the power to wield such a gun, but there were some who could, and they still existed within the battlefield. Matt knew that there were still some considerable Boss fights ahead of him, but with all this new experience, his new rocket launcher, and his enchanted vest with him, the victory would easily fall to his side.

Matt gazed at the forest surrounding him, feeling as though he had been around trees for a lifetime. He knew that a beach lay directly south of him, but that seemed like such a long trek for little pay off. It wasn't likely to find any opponents there, and Matt was looking to conquer his first Boss fight. If only his locater spell was working. As it was, the boy hadn't run into anyone in a long time. The last person he had encountered had been far too powerful for him, easily defeating his Pokemon companion and knocking Matt from his hiding place with a single shot. Even with all his training, Matt was no match for him, and wouldn't be for a little while. That's why a Boss fight was so important – he'd gain a large amount of experience from a single encounter. A few of those and then Matt would take down that final opponent with ease.

The boy heard a crack of a twig and smirked to himself. With his stealth abilities, no one in the area would notice his presence until it was too late. He would sneak up on them and take aim with the nail gun and take them out with a single shot, and then move on to far tougher challenges. The rest of The Program was going to go exactly as he planned it, and then they'd all bend down and worship the vanquisher of the battlefield.

Summoning mana, Matt took another deep breath, preparing himself for the very important battle that lay ahead of him. He gripped the nail gun a little too tight and a nail shot off into the ground, a few inches from his foot. This went unnoticed by the paladin and he ventured off into the unknown forest.

* * *

Leslie (Girl #25) gazed over at Connor (Boy #4). Despite the awful pain that racked his body, somehow he had found it in himself to sleep. Leslie was sure that being in constant pain thoroughly exhausted the body, but somehow she didn't expect Connor to fall asleep. If she was in his position, she wouldn't allow herself to sleep, out of fear of dying while in the unconscious state.

The girl discovered that her body was unnecessarily tense, and so she stood up, allowing her muscles to slightly relax. Deciding to stretch out a little, Leslie extended one arm forward as far as she could, and then did the same with the other. She crouched down and then extended one leg, feeling a pull in her muscles. She waited for the muscle to relax and then stretched out her other leg in the same fashion. Leslie stood straight up again and began to rotate her neck but stopped and winced when she discovered that it was surprisingly sore.

Leslie exhaled and her eyes settled on the large black spot in the center of the open space. She wondered what had been there, and if it had created this random exposed area in the middle of a forest. She shrugged it off, and stood in the direct center, on top of the charred earth. She settled into her fighting position and instantly swung out two punches and then a quick uppercut, before settling back and raising a quick knee. She continued her intense sparring, slowly drifting closer and closer to the edge of the open space.

She spun around and saw a tree bark staring at her in the face and she jumped back before launching a flying kick into the stationary object. She connected with the tree, knocking some bark off, but the plant remained rooted deep into the ground. She launched off the side of the tree, landing in a crouch not too far away. She raced forward and attacked again, knocking away more hardened bark with her fists.

She pulled back her hands and saw the blood starting to flow from her knuckles. With a quick flash, Leslie saw her hands completely covered in blood. The smell seemed to overpower her and she stumbled back. She could hear screams coming from somewhere, and sirens along with them. And slowly, the smell of alcohol drifted into her nostrils. Leslie tried to push everything away, but again, a quick flash and she was somewhere else. She watched the pellets of a shotgun slowly embed themselves inside Connor's thigh and she watched him scream out in pain before collapsing to the ground. The blood leaked off her fingers as everything faded into one large flashing smile.

The beast inside her stirred momentarily, and in an instant, Leslie whipped out the hunting knife that had remained dormant inside her pocket for a very long time. She cried out as she jumped forward at the tree, slashing with her knife. She fell backwards, taking a deep breath and removing everything from her mind. She felt the apathy fill her thoughts, felt her strength return. Leslie stared up at the hunting knife that had been pushed so far into the tree that no blade could be seen.

She stood and brushed the dirt from her pants. She walked over to the hunting knife, grabbing hold of the handle and tugging to no avail. She placed one foot on the tree bark and pulled harder, and the blade slipped from the tree. Leslie brushed some wood from it and returned it to her pocket, thinking that she had sufficiently stretched out. If someone was going to attack the pair, she would be ready.

* * *

Jeff continued his trek through the city portion of the playing field. As usual, he held his semi automatic in his right hand and the curved scythe in his left. The can of eye mace, which was disappointedly running low, remained in his back pocket, and a switchblade was safely tucked away inside his sock. The boy was armed and ready for his next battle.

The announcement had told him that he was one of ten remaining contestants, but he didn't have to worry about wondering which opponents remained. The boy had made sure to write down a list of all contestants back in the classroom, and with the help of the announcements, Jeff knew exactly who remained in the playing field. There was most definitely some major contenders remaining, but they would all eventually succumb to the pain. They all did.

Jeff placed his hand scythe into his left pocket and reached into his duffel bag to produce his list of contestants. Since he had been the one to take out Sid, that name had been crossed off earlier than the three most recent. Mr. Smith had said that Nathan, Kim, and Gloria had also died within the last six hours, but Jeff had not been the one to end them. From the sound of it, the two girls had taken each other out. Normally, Jeff would have been upset that he didn't get to kill them – there was no guarantee that they had experienced the necessary amount of pain before dying. But instead, his eyes settled in the name directly beneath his own on his list – Boy #23 – Bruce.

The killer could remember being thrust out those doors with only his duffel bag, staring out at the empty woods before him. His characteristic apathetic face hid his fear extremely well. There had only been seven people left inside the classroom when he had left, one of which being Bruce and another being Kara. It would have been easy to hide out in the nearby shrubbery and flag one or both down once they emerged.

_Dexter…_

No, friends had not been what he needed. They said they cared, but when it came down to it, the only way he was safe was to be alone. Friends could not be trusted, and in The Program, distrust resulted in more pain, more death. Jeff continued to stare down at his best friend's name on the piece of paper. He recalled the last time he had run into Bruce, how he had seemed surprised that Jeff was playing. Bruce had seen the scar – he should have known above anyone else that Jeff was easing his pain. What was so surprising about that?

_So many have died by my hand. Shouldn't I feel even the least amount of relief from my pain?_

_I am not done yet. Nine others remain._

_What's the difference between nine and ninety nine? Some have felt my pain, but I still hurt as much as I ever did. In fact, it almost feels like it hurts…more…_

_I'm thinking too much. There's no way that more pain has been added to my burden._

_What if I'm wrong? What if making them feel my pain isn't going to help me? I wonder what Bruce-_

_Bruce knows nothing! I've been relying on him for too much for too long. He nearly corrupted me into thinking that he deserves to know more about me. No one deserves that much!_

_He wouldn't have…_

_Have I already forgotten what friends do with information? Have I already forgotten the day I got this scar? Have I already forgotten about Dexter?_

Jeff stared down at Bruce's name, his already hard stare becoming stone. Bruce was the reason that Jeff's pain had not reduced. He was the reason that the pain had not gone away, despite all Jeff's efforts. Jeff would not be able to relieve the burning in his scar until Bruce felt the same pain his friend did. Because Bruce called himself Jeff's friend. Because Jeff knew that friends would only betray him. Because he knew that, sooner or later, Bruce would have tried to kill him if Jeff waited for him outside the school.

Jeff shoved the list back into his bag and returned the scythe to his hand. Fury swept through him and the burn in his chest did appear to have grown stronger. But despite the hatred and pain running through his body, Jeff did not reveal anything he felt in his expressions or mannerisms. If they knew what he was feeling, knew what he was thinking, they'd try to use it to cause him more pain. He quickened his pace as he continued down the empty city street, waiting for his chance to find Bruce and make him pay for pretending to care.

* * *

Ariana (Girl #18) took a seat beneath a tree, staring ahead of her at the very large buildings on the edge of the forest. It had been a very long time since she had been in the urban area, and she wondered whether or not she would find any new victims on this end of the playing field.

In all honesty, the girl wanted to escape the forest at all costs. She had spent so much time in it with Nathan and Minh (Boy #6) that those two boys were all she could think about when surrounded by trees. Ariana had spent enough time thinking about those two gay boys, and was ready to claim some new easy kills. She'd officially lost the shotgun, but she was still well armed with her ice pick, tire iron, and dagger. The only problem with all those weapons was that they were all close range. She'd either need to sneak up on her prey or trick them into letting her close enough to strike. Both were risky, but unfortunately necessary.

The fact that only nine other contestants remained made the girl smile wickedly. Her statistics of survival continued to grow as others died. Ariana didn't care how many kills she had at the end of The Program. The only thing that mattered was that she was still alive. Alive and ready to continue her journey of knowledge. Her mind still had a ways to go before she ascended to the next level of existence – where only the truly wise people could be. Her mind would continue to progress, and everyone would know of the girl who had supreme mastery over the mind and body. Winning The Program would be her ticket to all the knowledge she could ever ask for.

The sky was darkening slightly, and Ariana knew that soon it would be night. Things always became more difficult at night. Vision was lower than normal, and the other senses could not be trusted. The wind rushing through the leaves could be mistaken for footsteps. The shadows could be thought to be an enemy. The silence could be incorrectly perceived as someone else's breathing.

Ariana knew of the dangers of leaving the cover of the forest. There would be very few places to hide in the city area. There were hardly any places left in the area as it was. A good majority was now off limits as danger zones, leaving only a small portion remaining. This made the girl slightly uneasy, but there was good chance that she'd run into someone in that area. Ariana decided that she'd go through, check it quickly, and then leave. Primarily, it got her away from the forest region, but it also increased her chances of finding more contestants. Also, after she was done checking the urban area, she could head back to that suburban area inside the wooded area. She'd always had good luck there.

She took one step out of the cover of the forest, and then stepped back in, quickly registering that she had not seen anyone. Ariana glanced out again, and again did not see anybody. She took two steps out the next time, but did not move any further than that. She took another step, and then another, and then she quickly moved into the urban region.

* * *

On the exact opposite side of the playing field, the last remaining contestant stood in the wide open beach area. The beach itself faced south, but the boy was faced west, watching the sun slowly sink below the horizon. Minh had never particularly enjoyed sunsets, and was not completely sure why people found them to be extraordinary. But at that moment, he found himself taking in the last few moments of day.

Minh remembered back to the last sunset he had seen, and recalled that it was the moment that he and Nathan had once again found each other. So much had happened since that moment in time, and the Asian boy found himself wishing that he could recreate that scene. However, that was no longer the case. Nathan was forever lost to him.

The Asian boy closed his eyes, but the image of his boyfriend's corpse was forever burned into brain. It was all Minh could see when he closed his eyes, and sometimes even when his eyes were open. He wished that he could remove it, instead trying to remember some of the other times spent with Nathan, but nothing worked. For the moment, however, Minh found himself lost in the sunset. He didn't want to concern himself with anything else at that time.

The announcement continued to ring in his ears. Nathan's name had been read off first, which meant that he had died first during that six hour period. For all he knew, Ariana could have finished Nathan off immediately after Minh had left the two of them alone. That was something else Minh had noticed. Ariana's name had not been announced. She was still alive out there somewhere. He doubted that she would have stayed near the beach area, but Minh had found himself unable to leave it for the time being. He knew that he wanted to venture out and make that bitch pay for what she did to Nathan, but something was anchoring him to the beach. Maybe it was just the sunset.

The sun was nearly completely gone from the sky, and behind Minh, in the east, the stars had already stared to shine. If he wasn't so sure that he'd be targeted for standing where there was no cover, the boy would actually consider staying here on the beach. It was certainly better than that suffocating forest. But things would continue on whether or not the boy wanted them to. Nathan was dead, and nothing was going to bring him back. Time would continue to move forward for the living, and Minh would have to continue with it. But for the moment, he could simply sit and watch the sun disappear.

_Only ten of us left, huh? I wonder how much longer The Program's gonna last. I guess it all depends how quickly we all find each other._

The boy brushed some sand from his still damp clothes as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. He turned around and vanished into the forest as the sky darkened completely. Little did the boy know that of the ten people remaining in the playing field, only one would ever see the sun again.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 23, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 43, 48, 50, 51, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 26, 46

(10) Contestants remaining


	55. Dexter

Her footsteps echoed down the empty street. Even though the sun was gone, its last few diminishing rays were enough light so that the girl didn't have to strain her eyes to see. Regardless, the best way to detect another's presence was to listen to the sound of approaching footsteps. There were very few places to hide, but if you wandered too close to a dark alley, a predator in waiting could have its chance to strike. There would be no way to see if someone was there, other than trying to listen for them. Ariana's (Girl #18) hearing had never been exceptional, but at that moment, her ears were at the peak of ability.

Ariana had read about people who had done amazing things when forced with impossible odds. The story of the old lady who lifted a car to save her grandchild trapped beneath it. Blind and deaf people learning to communicate with the outside world. Finding it in yourself to kill your friends. She wondered if, on some sort of level, her body was slowly becoming super aware in an attempt to preserve her life. It was almost as if she could extend herself outwards, her being slipping into every crack, nook, and cranny around her, probing for possible threats and prey.

Walking down the middle of the street wasn't the best cover in the playing field, but it did prevent anyone from sneaking up on her. The only threat she could possibly imagine would be a long distance attack. Staying away from hiding places wouldn't help much if a gun was aimed at her head. But as far as she could imagine, that was the only flaw in her current action. Anyone else wanting to attack her would have to come into close range, and for that, she was well prepared.

But at the same time, Ariana had to admit to herself that walking down the center of the street was no way to sneak up on any potential victims herself. She was in plain sight, and even though she carried one weapon in broad daylight (the dagger being in her right hand, the tire iron in her duffel bag, and the ice pick in her panties) it was doubtful anyone would approach her unless viewing her as a target. But as dangerous or risky the urban area could be, anything was better than that forest. Ariana was so sick of trees. She made a mental note to completely decimate the wooded area at some point in her life after she emerged as the victor.

The girl suddenly froze for a moment, completely sure she had heard something. Time seemed to creep by as she turned in a circle, peering out at the oncoming darkness that was slowly surrounding her. Had she really heard something? Ariana couldn't tell, but nothing seemed to rush at her, and no more sounds made their way into her ears. The girl sensed no danger, and so she allowed her body to relax.

She became suddenly aware of the darkness during that moment of fear. The sun was nearly gone, and with the night came the fear of blindness. Luckily, for some, the playing field had been illuminated by a nearly complete moon the last two nights, which made visibility that much better in the oblivion of The Program. But with the rain had come clouds, and there was no guarantee that a moon would be out to light the path of the ten remaining contestants, despite the sun's short lived reappearance. It was going to be darker that night than any other night thus far in the game. And that made things more dangerous.

Ariana gazed up at the only light she could see, the reflection of the sun's last rays off the windows of nearby buildings. That was going to have to suffice for the time being. Her eyes would slowly adjust to the dark, but not enough for her night vision to kick in. Ariana was not worried however, since her heightened awareness still appeared to be working.

The girl's eyes fell, but then stopped. She blinked twice, trying to see if her eyes were fooling her, or if the light was merely casting shadows. She crouched slightly and liquidly moved forward down the road, trying to get a better angle on her object of interest. She paused for a moment, letting the glare remove itself and allowing the image to fully develop. When she was positive of what she was looking at, a wide smile crossed her beautiful face.

She took two steps but stopped cold, a new sound roaring in her ears. Footsteps pulsed in her head – footsteps that were not her own. They seemed to spin around her, but all the while getting louder. Thoughts raced around inside her head. Someone was obviously coming, but why hadn't she heard the footsteps before that moment? Had someone spotted her and moved in close? If that was the case, why make their presence known? Whoever it was, did they know that Ariana was close by?

Still unsure where the footsteps were coming from, the girl slinked off to the side as fast as she could without making a sound. She placed herself flat up against a building just around the corner of an alley. The footsteps seemed to boom in her over-sensitive ears, but slowly a figure became visible in the middle of the street. Ariana squinted her eyes, doing her best to make out who it was, and as she did, she stifled a gasp.

Jeff (Boy #22) stood frozen in the middle of the dark street. He gazed around him, unable to make out any signs of life the oblivion surrounding him. He was almost sure that he'd heard something from this general direction, but he couldn't see anyone now.

From her hiding place just twenty feet away from the killer, Ariana remembered her previous encounter with the boy. How he'd managed to cripple that giant before defeating Ariana and stealing her gun, which he no doubt still had. He was the massive obstacle standing between Ariana and victory – an obstacle not easily overcome. She'd have no chance against him in a close range battle. If she was going to take him down, or at least protect herself from him, she'd need something much more powerful – something that would keep him at a distance.

_The shotgun._

Again, Ariana cursed herself for allowing the gun to slip through her fingers. If that weapon was in her possession, Jeff would easily be taken out, since he still appeared to be unaware of her presence. Despite her frustration, the girl did not allow herself to move. If the boy sensed her existence, he'd attack without hesitation and without mercy, and the statistics did not favor her in that situation. She would have to wait until later when she was more equipped to battle him. But for the moment, she simply needed to wait. Ariana watched him from her position, waiting for him to continue onward the way she had come. However, he remained on that very spot, apparently frozen in time. The girl squinted again through the ever growing darkness, but could see no reason why he had not continued on ahead of him.

_What could he possibly be thinking at a time like this?_

* * *

"Everyone, could I have your attention for a moment?"

Jeff lifted his head from where it hovered over his current schoolwork. More recently, that's where his view had been fixated. That way, if he pretended that it was impossible to see who continued to toss paper balls in his hair, then he wouldn't be able to hear their insults either. Surprisingly enough, a new face stood in front of the class along with the regular teacher.

"Everyone, this is a new student that will be joining our class." The teacher remarked with a smile, "I hope that you all welcome him just like you have welcomed Jeff into our classroom family."

Had it already been two school years since Jeff had joined this school? Had he endured all the torture for that long? Every day seemed like a blur to him at that point. The insults were different and so were the pranks, but everything else was the same. Eating lunch by himself so that he didn't have to worry about kids putting things in his food or drink. Avoiding everyone (and the occasional kickball aimed at his head) at all costs at recess. Replying to his parents that school had been fine that day if they asked. For two years the boy had been alone. No one seemed to notice or care how much it hurt him to be alone, and so they allowed him to suffer by himself, or they attempted to add to his pain.

Another teacher popped his head into the classroom and motioned to the teacher in the front of the class. She nodded and told the new student to introduce himself. She exited the room and the new boy glanced at all the faces staring at him in fear. He braved a smile and opened his mouth to say his name, when a rubber band flew up at him, coming millimeters away from his eye. The rest of the kids in the class had apparently become very accurate with those rubber bands during those two years.

The boy cried out in surprise as a twinge of pain sting him in the face. Some girls giggled and quickly hushed words to each other. The boy looked around to see where the rubber band had come from, when another struck him on the forehead. He backed up a few feet and hit the chalkboard, covering his face with both of his hands. The teacher returned at this point and the class quieted down. It very obvious that the new boy had started to cry with his hands over his face.

The teacher asked him what was wrong, but he stood, wiping his eyes and smiling as best he could, telling her that it had been nothing. And in that smile, Jeff could see even the slightest glimmer of hope. It had taken only a minute, and now someone else knew how Jeff felt. A single minute had made a boy cry, but Jeff had withstood it for two years. And suddenly, the boy didn't feel so alone anymore. Someone else felt the pain he experienced. And maybe…maybe Jeff didn't have to be alone anymore…

The new boy had slowly walked to an open desk next to Jeff, who had strategically placed himself as far away from the rest of the class as possible. His face was red with embarrassment and the sting of the rubber band, and his head drooped forward.

"My name's Jeff." The boy whispered so that he wouldn't interrupt the lesson that had already begun. The new student looked back, as if to see if the welcome had been genuine or if another rubber band was about to be launched in his face. Jeff allowed himself to smile for the first time in what felt like forever. The boy smiled back, this one looking genuine.

"I'm Dexter."

* * *

"It's been so long since you've had a friend come over our house, honey." Jeff's mother smiled warmly as she greeted the guest in the house. This statement was very true. It hadn't been until Jeff switched schools that he'd encountered the bullying. Before then, he'd had plenty of friends. A part of wondered if they still would have liked him.

"Thanks for having me over." Dexter replied. It had taken Jeff a good three months to finally invite his friend over to his place. There was no guarantee that the rest of the kids in the class would accept Dexter so that Jeff had absolutely no one again, but it appeared the rest of the kids liked having two targets instead of one. And when they were together, it was like one giant target instead of two. The teasing and the pranks still got to Dexter, but Jeff couldn't care less. Finally there was someone like him, who knew what it felt like to be alone.

Jeff's father was busy working that day, for which Jeff was grateful since people always felt that the man was intimidating. The boy wanted his friend to be completely comfortable while he was over. His mother eventually left the two boys alone, and Jeff began to give Dexter a tour of his home. He brought him around the kitchen and then to the dining room (which wasn't used except on Christmas and Easter and sometimes Thanksgiving). They entered the family room, where a few pictures of Jeff lined the walls.

"Are these all of you?" Dexter asked as he started glancing at a few. Jeff nodded and his eyes fell on one particular picture on the end. His eyes widened and he moved to grab it, but Dexter saw it first and lifted it up to eye level.

"Jeff, is this you?" Dexter asked, a smile creeping over his face.

The boy's face turned a beet red as his friend observed Jeff many years prior, in tights. Before Jeff could say anything, Dexter reached out and grabbed another photo directly to the side of the previous one. This one featured Jeff around the same age, doing a handstand on a balance beam. Dexter spun toward his friend with a grin on his face, only to see how red Jeff's face had become. His grin vanished, and he put the pictures back where they belonged.

"You don't have to be embarrassed, Jeff." Dexter said. Jeff nodded and then took a long breath.

"Do you remember that show that was on a lot when we were kids?" Jeff asked, "The Patriot Rangers?" Dexter thought back and could vaguely remember such a show. He nodded yes. "Well, back then, they were my heroes. I wanted to be one too. I read all the books they released and all the shows they were on, including interviews. And I learned that the actors had all taken some form of gymnastics or dance. And so I took both."

Dexter nodded as Jeff spoke, not wanting to interrupt. He felt slightly bad that he'd made Jeff feel uncomfortable. The two of them were bullied so much in school that neither should have to worry about being made fun of by the other. It was their common respect for the outcasts.

"It may seem dumb now, since I probably should have taken a martial arts or something like that" Jeff continued, "But back then, it felt like I was…I don't know, becoming a hero myself. I worked really hard, and apparently, I was pretty good. Eventually I stopped though."

"What made you want to stop?" Dexter asked as the two slowly made their way into the next room, and away from the photographs.

"My father…suggested that I do something else with my time." They continued onward through the house in silence for a minute. Jeff allowed himself to return down memory lane inside his mind, while his friend attempted to imagine a younger Jeff taking dance and gymnastics. He couldn't do it. It was Dexter who finally broke the silence between them.

"Can you still do anything?" he asked.

"Huh?" Jeff replied, coming out of his daze.

"All that stuff you learned back then." Dexter clarified, "Can you still do any of it?"

Jeff smiled, "Want to see?"

They both exited the house and moved to Jeff's front lawn. Jeff walked out in front of his friend and smiled at him quickly before taking off full speed ahead of him. Dexter watched in amazement as Jeff placed one hand down and swung both legs over his head and kept his momentum going, bending over backwards with three quick back handsprings in a row. He finished up with a no handed cartwheel. Dexter's mouth dropped open and was about to applaud since it seemed appropriate, when Jeff raced forward once again, running faster than Dexter assumed he could. The boy lifted off the ground and Dexter watched as his body tucked into a tiny ball, spinning forward, not once, but twice before Jeff landed in a crouch on the ground.

"Holy shit!" Dexter cried out in amazement. Jeff stood, brushing some dirt from his shirt and smiling rather sheepishly. Dexter walked over and noticed that Jeff had the very beginning of a sweat on his forehead. It hadn't taken very much of Jeff's energy at all, but that was the most impressed Dexter had been in his life.

"That was incredible!" Dexter said, "If the kids at school knew you could do that, you'd be the most popular in our class."

Jeff's smile vanished from his face. He slowly shook his head. "I don't want them to know."

"Why not?" Dexter replied.

Jeff didn't reply at first. He stared down at the ground, thinking back to when it was just him in the classroom. How hard he'd tried to make friends. How they'd build up his hopes, but then knock him down again. Just like Johnny's birthday party. He'd had enough of hoping to be included, and he was tired of trying to befriend them.

"I want this to be our secret, okay?" Jeff said. Dexter looked like he wanted to argue the matter, but Jeff began to walk back to his house, and his friend jogged to keep up with him. They walked through the door and Jeff led his friend up to his room to finish up the tour.

Dexter cleared his throat like he was preparing to speak, and Jeff paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob before dropping back to his side. He glanced behind him out of the corner of one eye at Dexter.

"If you don't want me to say anything, I won't." he said. Jeff smiled softly and then spun back around, opening the door to his room.

* * *

The boy winced as he shook his head, trying to remove the memory from his brain. He wasn't sure why Dexter was entering his head so much at that moment. Jeff hadn't seen him in a little over four years, and he hadn't given him very much thought in the meantime. But for some reason, the boy occupied the killer's mind.

_I want Dexter to be here right now._

That was the truth of the matter. False that he was, Bruce (Boy #23) wasn't as bad as Dexter. He was merely a lesser substitute. And Jeff was worried he wasn't going to be satisfied with just killing Bruce. He wanted to claim Dexter's life as well.

_The first thing I do when I win The Program is take out Dexter._

Resolve pulsed through Jeff's veins and his hands tightened around the weapons he was holding. Dexter would be first, but he wouldn't be the last. His entire class deserved to feel the pain they inflicted on him. With the skills he learned in The Program, they'd all quickly die by his hand. And who would stop him? Who would dare try and pin murder on the winner of The Program? The very sound of it was absolutely ridiculous.

_If I'm lucky, I might be able to take out Dexter while that three day immunity is still in effect._

An uncharacteristic smile crept over Jeff's face. He finally took a step forward and continued going into the darkness that contained his destiny.

Ariana released a sigh of relief once the killer was out of earshot. She didn't know how long he had stood there completely motionless in the middle of the street, but it felt like an eternity. Standing completely still had been difficult for her, but she had managed, and it was time to move on to the next matter at hand. She glanced up again at the object of interest – a girl who had fallen asleep leaning against a window.

* * *

Molly (Girl #9) couldn't sleep. She'd been lying on her back staring up at the ceiling since the announcement. A fatigue continued to grab at her, but for some reason, she couldn't fall back asleep, even if she tried to relax her body and clear her mind. She determined that she was just too scared to sleep, and instead continued to stare up into space, waiting for the right time to wake Kara (Girl #24) still asleep against the window.

A slight scuffle rang in the girl's ears, but she pushed it away, sitting up and yawning softly. Maybe it was about time she woke up her friend. They'd been in that same room for a while now, and it probably wasn't safe to stay in the same place for very long. Another squeak rang out and instantly Molly spun her head towards the door. It had sounded like it came from the other side of the door, but the girl couldn't be sure. After all, it could just be noise, or her imagination mixing with her fear. But regardless of what it could have been, Molly was almost completely sure that someone was on the opposite side of the locked door. She suddenly wished that there had been a deadbolt on it instead of a simple lock on the knob. Molly quietly scurried over to her friend and gently shook her awake. Kara looked at her confusedly, and then outside at the darkness before her.

She opened her mouth to ask Molly the many questions she had, but Molly clamped her hand over Kara's mouth and pointed to the door with her free hand. Kara's eyes widened with fear as the soft sound of movement erupted in her ears. She forced back the urge to scream and instead looked for a way to escape. The room was simple and had only one exit. It most likely had been a bedroom. The windows led no where, and the only other door in the room was a cleaned out closet – supporting the bedroom theory.

The two girls watched as, ever so slightly, the doorknob shook from the other side. Kara grabbed her friend and pushed her forward toward the closet, opening the door and shoving her inside before following her in.

_Okay, if it's not a threat, then the person will just leave to find another place to hide._

However, the rattling continued, getting a little louder. The closet door was open just the slightest crack so that only Kara could see out. There was nothing to see yet, but still plenty to hear. Suddenly, the clattering ceased, and the only sound the two girls could hear was their own breathing. A boom erupted near them and both girls jumped from their hiding place. At first neither knew what was happening, but two more booms and they heard the weak lock give way and the door swing wide open.

Through the crack and the waning darkness, Kara could make out a figure stepping into the room after kicking the door in. She couldn't tell who it was, but one thing was for sure – they weren't looking to make friends. If whoever it was saw Kara sleeping in the window, then they knew someone was in the room, and the locked door pushed away any doubt as well. That only left climbing out the window or the closet. Kara and Molly were trapped, and soon to be discovered.

Kara heard the footsteps approach the window, and then slowly moved toward the closet door. Who knew what kinds of weapons the intruder had, even though it was most likely not a gun. Someone with a gun would have shot the doorknob off instead of wasting energy kicking it down, unless they were preserving ammunition. Too many variables ended up with both Kara and Molly dead. Things were not looking good.

"Come out of there and I won't hurt you." A female voice erupted in the silence of the barren room. A desperate plan quickly formed itself inside Kara's head. The intruder was attracted to this place because she had seen Kara in the window. She had no knowledge of the other girl hiding in the closet. Kara grabbed Molly's duffel bag from her hands and carefully set down her own containing the bowling ball. She then exited the closet, leaving the door open enough so that it wasn't suspicious, but still enough to conceal her friend.

Kara squinted in the darkness, recognizing Ariana from around school. The murderess recognized the girl as well, remembering her and her group of friends. She debated whether to tell her that one of her friends was a deadly killing machine, or that Ariana had killed two of her other friends. She decided on neither, deciding not to make this unnecessarily difficult. Kara looked like she was just about ready to give up. The intended target stared down at the tire iron in the girl's left hand and the dagger in her right.

"Still not going to hurt me?" Kara asked.

"Perhaps." Ariana replied, "What weapon do you have?" Ariana had no intention of letting Kara go. An easy kill did not come along very often. She just wanted to ensure that there were no surprises. Kara obviously had a useless weapon or else she'd have drawn it, but Ariana didn't want to risk the statistics. This needed to go as smoothly as possible.

"Nothing." Kara replied tossing the near empty bag towards Ariana. Molly's bag was nearly empty except for some water bottles and some leftover dehydrated jerky. Her weapon, a yo-yo, was still wrapped around her finger. "I tossed it a long time ago because it was useless."

Ariana suspected that was untrue, but now it appeared the girl was completely defenseless. This was going to be easy as pie.

"So, are you going to let me go?" Kara asked, her voice sounding hopeful. Ariana smirked before rushing forward with the dagger. Kara jumped to the side, allowing the closet door the space to open wide. "NOW!" she screamed, the tire iron nearly missing her head. Molly emerged from the closet with a screech, swinging Kara's bag high over her head. Ariana's eyes went wide with surprise right before the bowling ball inside the duffel bag connected with her temple, sending her flying.

The girls raced for the open door, leaving their attacker behind them in the barren room with Molly's nearly empty duffel bag. They were gone in an instant, not even staying behind to notice that Ariana had been knocked unconscious by the surprise attack, all her useful weaponry still ripe for the taking.

The room settled into silence once again. It wasn't until twenty minutes later that Ariana awoke, her head pounding and spinning at the same time. She cursed herself for being so careless as to think that Kara had been alone. She remembered taking out two of her friends but forgot that there were more in the playing field. She was lucky the girls had run off and not finished the murderess off. It appeared she still had all her weaponry as well.

Ariana attempted to stand, but dizziness took over and the girl collapsed to the ground again, once again cursing herself. Things hadn't gone as planned, and they certainly happen in the best case scenario, but she was still alive with the ability to defend herself with nothing but a migraine. This would slightly lower her statistics, but Ariana doubted that it would be a problem.

Feeling the lightheadedness subside, the deadly girl rose to her feet. She took a deep breath and left the building in search of more prey.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 23, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 43, 48, 50, 51, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 26, 46

(10) Contestants remaining


	56. True Strength

The boy stared out at them from the cover of the trees. He didn't dare move – not yet at least. There was no way to possibly know whether the two people before him posed any threat at all, but he definitely wanted to be sure. He squinted through the darkness, and found that he was able to make out their condition a little better. One figure lay directly on its back, and from the look of it, it appeared to be male. The boy couldn't tell whether he was asleep or injured or perhaps even dead. Regardless, the boy could easily tell who the major threat was. The female who sat by his side clearly appeared to be the more dangerous of the two.

She appeared to be at rest, but the boy saw her instantly react to the slightest sound. Her instincts even seemed to rival the boy's, and she no doubt had some skills that had honed her senses so acutely. But that didn't faze the boy at all. He was fully aware of his capabilities, and even though he was sure that this would not be an easy battle, he knew he would win. The hero always won. And once the girl was taken care of, he'd easily remove the other figure. That would leave two less people in the running for the victory.

But still something caused him hesitation. Something about the female created a sense of anxiety…or perhaps even fear in the boy. It was almost as if she emitted some kind of…demonic presence. Was she a devil in disguise? The boy doubted that very much and shook most of his fears away. What remained was still enough to keep him in his hiding area. He decided on a sneak instead of a head-on battle.

The boy gripped the gun in his hand tightly before raising it to eye level. Even in the darkness, he could see her sitting with her back to a large tree directly next to her male companion. He took aim with his long range weapon, aiming directly at the girl's head.

* * *

Leslie (Girl #25) was feeling uneasy. Night had come almost too quickly and before she had known it, she and Connor (Boy #4) had been plunged into darkness. The girl didn't dare risk moving the injured boy, but now the two of them were blanketed in oblivion, with very little protection. Leslie wished that she had taken advantage of that rope safely tucked inside her sleeping bag.

When she considered it, it wouldn't have taken much to string the rope around the surrounding area, and even that would have made it more difficult to reach the vulnerable pair. But she had not, finding herself instead drawn to the side of her companion. This made her upset on various levels. The boy had found some way into her thoughts, and no matter what she did, she couldn't remove him from her mind. And what was worse, Leslie wasn't sure she wanted him to leave her thoughts.

Leslie sighed and reached up, brushing some hair from her forehead. The sound registered first. It was the sound of a great pressure being released, like the cork off a bottle of wine. The air rushed forward and the pop echoed through the empty area. Leslie jumped to her feet and glanced around her for any sort of presence. And then the pain registered. It started out as a tickle first, the sensation rushing through her entire hand. But then the feeling became more intense. Pain swept up her arm. She gazed down at the hand that had been in front of her face merely seconds before, and through the darkness saw a nail sticking out of the back of her hand. She fought back the urge to cry out in fear and pain, and instead looked around for the threat, yanking the nail from her damaged hand.

Another pop exploded in the quiet darkness, but this time the pain registered immediately. The nail struck the girl in the fleshy area just above her right thigh. She hissed with anger and pain as she yanked that one free as well. Standing out in the open was doing her no good. At this rate, it would only be a matter of time before a nail hit somewhere more life threatening. She gazed over at Connor. She didn't want to leave him there, but they were both in trouble if Leslie continued to be damaged. She slowly slinked backwards, disappearing into the surrounding forest area.

Matt (Boy #20) was at a loss of what to do. He'd been dead on with his first shot, but out of luck, the girl's hand had been there at the exact moment. That was unfortunate for him, but he had shot her with his weapon twice, and that meant that she was damaged. Still, he hadn't expected her to leave the area. She was no longer an open target for him, but instead, a prowler searching for him. The hunter had become the hunted. Matt looked to his side and considered climbing a nearby tree for cover, but decided against it. He'd make too much noise doing that and give away his location.

_A good ninja never reveals his location unless necessary._

But despite that, Matt still felt at a disadvantage. The magic barrier still impeded his performance, however slight. The paladin was worried that his vest would not be enough to protect him from this opponent. He could hear nothing, but he knew she was searching for him, slowly combing the surrounding area for his presence. If she found him before he noticed her, his experience points may not be enough to save him. The boy's eyes drifted to the only other object in the clearing before him. He smiled slightly.

_A weakness._

Matt emerged from the forest, stepping into the clearing and walking over to Connor's resting body. He stood over it, aiming the nail gun directly at the helpless boy's face. Matt looked around, to see if his action had caused a reaction yet. Nothing happened, and so Matt finally spoke.

"Come out, Amazon warrior, or your servant dies."

Leslie's brow furrowed for a moment.

_Amazon? Servant?_

The boy was clearly delusional. But not enough that he couldn't pull the trigger to the contraption in his hand. Leslie felt the blood drip from the back of her hand onto the ground. Her other wound was still bleeding as well, but neither appeared to be very deep. All she had to do is wrap up her hand, and apply pressure to the wound above her thigh until it stopped bleeding, but Leslie could do neither at the moment. The attacker stood poised above Connor, ready to strike at any moment, and she was not close enough to make one of her own. She couldn't use her companion as bait any longer.

Leslie walked out of the forest, watching Matt closely. He turned the nail gun toward her quickly and fired again, missing as Leslie ducked out of the way. She dashed forward with inhuman speed and placed two punches to Matt's gut. The boy gasped for air as it rushed from his lungs. He took a step back as Leslie swung her foot up, knocking the nail gun up into the air and then placing one last punch into Matt's face, sending him sprawling. Leslie flexed her fists slightly, noticing that those punches to the boy's torso felt…different than ones she had thrown before.

Matt jumped to his feet after Leslie's attack. The force of her blows had knocked the air from him, but hardly any pain had registered. If all she had was martial arts knowledge, then she'd tire out long before him, and then he'd finish her with ease. He ran toward her, a fist raised ready to strike. Leslie decided to avoid the torso for the time being, easily dodging the boy's wild punch before striking at his throat. Matt sputtered and stepped back, before a kick planted itself into his face, breaking his nose. The blood flowed instantly, rushing down the boy's face and over his lips. From the ground, Matt looked up and saw his target staring directly at him.

"Leave…us…alone." Leslie quietly hissed each word. Matt glanced over and saw that his nail gun remained untouched near the resting boy. If he could reclaim his weapon, then he could take control of the situation. The vest could only do so much against this enemy. This Boss fight would need more strategy than force. Matt's open hand closed around some loose dirt as he rose to his feet.

_He's playing. And he won't leave until we're dead. Guess I'll just have to beat him into submission and then leave with Connor. He won't leave on his own, so we'll have to escape._

Leslie rushed at him with a cry as Matt quickly made some hand motions.

"Art of the Shadow Doppelganger!" Matt cried out. In his mind, several other Matt clones appeared at is side, but in real life, Leslie merely stopped out of surprise. She didn't know what his words meant, but decided that it was in her best interest to end this battle as quickly as possible. She rushed at Matt again, who was surprised that his opponent saw through his trickery. Still, he was able to duck to the side of a punch and swung his fist toward her face. Leslie was ready with a block, when his hand opened, and millions of dirt particles swarmed into her eyes.

The girl shrieked in pain and dropped to the ground. Matt swung out his foot and kicked her beneath her chin. Leslie felt to the side, the unfamiliar pain of being struck throbbing in her head. Matt kicked Leslie in the stomach to make her curl into a ball, and then kicked her in the back. He kicked her again and again, aiming for her vulnerable areas each time. With a cry of fury, Leslie cried out, "Stop it!" and swung out a blind kick of her own, nailing Matt in the gut and knocking him back.

_She's still got so much energy left in her. Where is her power source? How do I defeat her?_

Matt glanced over at the motionless body at the edge of the clearing. He smiled as he raced over to his nail gun and walked over to Connor, standing over him once again. He stared back at Leslie, who was busy trying to remove the dirt form her eyes.

"I've found your weakness, Amazon warrior!" Matt said. Leslie stopped and squinted over at the boy as he loomed over her companion. "He contains your strength! And once he is dead, you will be nothing!"

_He contains your strength…_

The words echoed in her ears as she watched helplessly as Matt turned his gaze back to Connor. His finger moved toward the trigger, the nail gun aimed directly between Connor's eyes. Those eyes suddenly snapped open, and with unforeseen power, the boy grabbed the hammer from his pocket and swung out at the back of Matt's knee. Matt cried out and his leg collapsed, his finger automatically pulling the trigger to the nail gun anyways.

Leslie heard the nail gun fire, and instantly the beast within her sprang to life. The hunting knife was in her hand immediately, and she threw it forward, the blade slicing through Matt's wrist and continuing onward into the tree above Connor's head, pinning him there. Matt screamed in agony and then turned to see himself face to face with Leslie. His eyes widened with fear as she deftly grabbed the hammer from Connor's hand. She flipped it around so that the claw was forward and then thrust it upward through his chin into the boy's mouth. Matt tried to scream, but his mouth wasn't working correctly anymore. The girl reached her hand in and began to tug. The pain ripped through Matt's entire being.

_No! This can't happen! The hero never dies! Where's the reset button? I'll just reset and start again. Where is it? This can't be game over already! THE HERO NEVER DIES!_

Leslie felt the muscles tear and the bones break as finally, the boy's jaw was ripped from the rest of his face. She screeched inhumanly as she yanked the hunting knife from the tree and stabbed in downward, continuing to puncture Matt's body.

"Leslie!" Connor cried out, "Leslie, stop!"

The girl froze, her eyes settling on the boy that had stood before her. She stared down at her hands, the hands that were drenched in warm blood. She dropped the knife and took a staggering step back, her foot knocking into the bottom half of Matt's face.

"Leslie, he's dead." Connor whispered. She gazed over at him in a daze, collapsing to her knees. Her body began to shake uncontrollably as the smell of blood overwhelmed her. She could hear the sirens, smell the alcohol, feel the blood. There was so much blood. Fear, guilt, rage, sorrow – it all poured over her, overwhelming her with emotion.

Connor watched his companion slowly begin to break down. He remembered the last time her rage got the better of her. He needed to make sure she didn't lose herself to her emotions. He needed to keep her with him.

"Leslie." Connor whispered painfully, "Leslie, look at me." Slowly, she did so, staring him directly in the face. She crawled a little closer to him, her body shaking even more. Connor wanted to reach out to her, but too much pain raced through his body. His last attack against Matt had completely wiped him of energy. He strained to keep talking.

"Leslie, you gotta talk to me." Connor said. He stared at her, watching the girl slowly break down. "Look at me. Don't lose yourself – look at me, Leslie!" She snapped her head up, meeting his eye contact in the darkness.

"Tell me, Leslie." Connor whispered, "Tell me what happened." The girl dropped her gaze again, but slowly it returned, with a piece of Leslie returning in her eyes. She took a deep breath that seemed to calm her slightly. And slowly, she began to speak.

* * *

The girl swung the door open and then closed it behind her. With a soft sigh she walked through the cluttered apartment, tossing her gym bag into the hallway that eventually led to her room. She walked through the doorway that led her into the kitchen and began rummaging about inside the cupboards. She found nothing appetizing, but was not too bothered by it since she wasn't particularly hungry at that moment anyways.

Leslie's thoughts were too preoccupied with the words of her fighting instructor. He'd told her that strength didn't come from unleashing emotions like she had done. That there had been more to strength than brute power. But as far back as she could remember, her uncle had said that the strong were the more powerful and that they couldn't cry – that she had learned the hard way. But if her uncle said that physical prowess was strength, and her instructor said that there was more to it, then what was true strength? How could she become stronger?

The girl tossed her gym bag into her closet of a room and pulled out one of her text books. She sat down in the living room not occupied by trash and began to read. She had plenty of homework to catch up on and Leslie knew it was only a matter of time before she was interrupted. Her uncle was still not home, and whenever he was out this late, he came back drunk and looking for a fight.

_Looks like I have some more sparring practice tonight._

Leslie had had to deal with beatings ever since she had been handed over to the care of her uncle after the murder of her parents. She had mourned them like any natural girl of that age, but her uncle hated crying. He'd beaten her into submission many times, her screams falling on deaf ears. The neighbors would call only if they were trying to sleep at the time of the abuse, and wanted the police to stop the noise. Even the cops were no help, merely telling her uncle not to make so much noise and then leaving, even if the battered Leslie stumbled into view. Everyone knew what was going on inside that apartment, and no one decided to stop it.

The girl had decided to take self defense as a means to become stronger. If she did so, then her uncle would see no need to tell her that she required more strength. After all, the one thing that her uncle ever mentioned while he smacked her and tossed her about was that she needed to become stronger. It had taken her a while to understand what he had meant. So Leslie had started classes, and she learned fighting techniques. But she excelled in dodging attacks. She'd bee hit so many times, that she had actually expected an attack to fly at her from no where, even if her uncle was no where to be found. The girl was always on guard, but now she was prepared to if anyone attempted to test her strength.

The front door swung open with a crash, but the girl didn't flinch. She sighed and closed her book, placing it on the seat next to her. She stood and met the gaze of her uncle staring over at her from across the room.

"You…" he hissed with a slur, winding back and chucking an empty whiskey bottle at her head. She reached up and caught it easily, placing the glass bottle on a nearby cluttered table and subtly entered her fighting position as her uncle lumbered over to her. She'd grown up fearing his massive form, and despite her own growth, the man still overshadowed her by at least a foot and by a good deal of weight – both muscle and fat.

He swung a hook toward the side of her head which she easily ducked under, moving to the side between trash and another chair. Her uncle tried an uppercut but missed as well. He lashed out again, this time with a kick. Leslie was surprised, since her uncle rarely attempted to kick her, since it always threw off his balance.

_He must be in a really bad mood tonight._

"You weak bitch!" he cried out as he stumbled slightly, but swung out a meaty hand again, this time nearly clipping Leslie's chin. She stepped back in surprise, noticing that her uncle was coming very close to hitting her, which he hadn't done in a long time. This slightly angered her, and her mood had not been a good one to begin with. The man raised both hands clasped together and then swung down at her. Leslie jumped aside, just as her uncle swung out a single arm, connecting with her body and knocking her to the ground. Leslie was up in an instant, her upper lip snarling.

Her uncle attacked again, but Leslie dodged easily this time, deciding for the first time, to fight back. She landed a quick punch to his open kidney and leapt back, away from the enemy. The man grasped his side and looked up at his niece with a look of surprise.

"Is that all you've got?" he taunted, his face twisting in anger, "After all these years, you're still as weak as you ever were! You're just as weak as your mother was!"

The last comment made Leslie's mouth drop, just like her guard. The man scored a powerful punch to the side of her face and then lumbered over to take advantage of the downed girl.

"What did you know about my mother?" Leslie cried out from the ground, kicking her uncle in the stomach before climbing to her feet and landing a punch of her own. He stumbled back, holding his jaw.

"Your mother was weak whore!" he yelled, swinging two more punches, "She loved me, not my worthless brother! But she refused to leave him! No matter how many times I'd tell her how much stronger I was than him. She was too weak to admit her feelings for me!"

The man landed a solid kick to Leslie's stomach and knocked her to the ground. He then used his large frame to pin her there beneath his girth. He leaned down and whispered into her ear.

"That's why I killed them. They were too weak, and so I killed them."

Time seemed to freeze. Leslie stared up at the ceiling above her, the words echoing inside her brain. The memory flooded back to her – walking into her parents' bedroom and climbing into bed with them. Laughing that they were still pretending to be asleep and then she remembered seeing their slashed necks. How it looked like their heads were detachable.

_That's why I killed them._

"Your mother is lost to me now." Her uncle continued as he reached down and unzipped his pants, "But you were my prize. And I've raised you to be strong. Strong enough to be mine." He reached a hand underneath her shirt up to her chest and placed a kiss on the side of her face.

_They were too weak, and so I killed them._

"NO!" the slumbering beast inside Leslie roared awake. She swung her head forward, head butting her uncle in the nose. The hand was removed from her chest and reached up to his bleeding nose.

"YOU KILLED MY PARENTS!" She reached a free hand upwards, sinking her fingers deep into the side of his face. The man screeched in horror and tried to pry the nails from his flesh, but the beast's razor sharp claws held on tight, descending deeper. With a cry of pure rage, the girl tore her hand away, taking a piece of the man's face with it. He screamed in unimaginable pain and rolled away from the girl. Blood oozed off the girl's fingers as she jumped to her feet. She watched the man trying to crawl away from her, and then turning to stare up at her in fear.

Leslie kicked the man in the stomach, keeping her foot pinned inside his body. He howled again and pushed her leg away with a weak swipe. The girl stared down at the bone and teeth that were now visible from the side of his face. The man stared back up at her, witnessing the beast in full view for the very first time. She struck fast and strong, moving back and forth, striking at any exposed area on the man at her feet. The man continued to scream in agony, the pain almost too great to experience.

The girl could hear a knock at the door, but she ignored it. She reached down and sunk her hand into the man's other. The door was crashed in and men scrambled into over the mess in enough time to see the girl rip the flesh off the other side of her uncle's face. She stood up and stared at the policemen in the doorway. One turned his head and vomited off to the side. She stared down at her hands, dripping with blood, whose odor seeped up into her nostrils. The wail of sirens from outside finally registered inside her brain, as the beast finally returned to its slumber. The smell of alcohol slowly drifted into her nose along with the blood, solidifying this memory forever in the girl's mind.

* * *

Connor sat dumbstruck in the darkness as the story poured from the girl in front of him. He'd detected no display of emotion as it unfolded, hearing the same even tone all through the narrative. How could anyone still contain that much emotion with a memory like that?

"And that's when it all started to make sense." Leslie said, "I finally knew what everyone was talking about. My instructor told me that I couldn't simply release my anger whenever I felt like it. I did it then, and I had nearly killed my uncle. I'm not saying that he didn't deserve what I had done to him that day, but…my uncle always said that crying was weak too. I finally understood. The strong had complete control over their emotions. My instructor told me to take care of my anger, and my uncle told me to hide my sadness. The strong have no use for emotion, and so I removed emotion from my system completely."

"Leslie," Connor began, not exactly sure what to say. How could anyone possibly understand what life had been like for this girl in front of him? "Being a robot doesn't make you strong."

She stared up at him, watching him through the oblivion surrounding them. Connor continued, "I don't care what your uncle told you about strength – he was wrong. That fucker…he was evil, Leslie. And he was wrong. Your instructor was telling you to watch your anger because he saw what you were capable of doing. How can you say that you removed emotion from your body when you just let rage take control over you again?" The motioned weakly over to Matt's corpse and Leslie followed, dropping her head in what appeared to be defeat.

Her head suddenly snapped up and she lunged at him, her hand gripping his shirt and pulling his face close to hers, "You want me to be weak, just like you!" she hissed, the beast stirring inside her again.

"No, I don't." Connor replied softly, "I want you to be human." The girl let go of his shirt and let him fall back to the ground with a grunt of pain. "I've listened to you talk about strength for a while now, Leslie. And I don't believe you are strong. Because strong people don't push away sadness and happiness or even anger. Feelings are what make us human – strong people use their emotions to push them onward when we don't feel we can!"

Leslie said nothing. Her legs collapsed, and along with it, her world. She stared down at the ground, letting Connor's words bounce around inside her head.

_Just losing yourself in the fight is not strength – it's barbaric, completely wild and uncontrollable._

"I'm…" Leslie began before staring up at Connor, "I'm…scared of my anger. Whenever it takes over, I hurt people. I can't allow myself to feel emotions, because it's only a matter of time before rage gets the better of me. And I won't allow that to happen. I will not kill."

"It's okay to be scared. But hiding your anger away isn't the answer. Because when it's finally released, it attacks all at once. You bottle things up until you become a time bomb, and then you explode." Connor said, "Your rage will ALWAYS get the better of you if don't find some way of integrating it with the rest of you."

_Have I been wrong all this time?_

Leslie returned her gaze back over to Connor, only to see his figure become even hazier in the dark. Without warning, the water coating her eye slowly fell down her face. For the first time in many years, tears graced the face of Girl #25- Leslie. She wiped it away hurriedly, before Connor could see it.

"Leslie," Connor said weakly, "There's still so much out there for you to live through. There's still so much joy in the world that you deserve to experience. I…want you to promise me…that you will do whatever it takes to win The Program."

The girl wiped away another tear before her companion noticed it. "Connor, I-"

"Promise me." Connor interrupted with an unseen force, "I won't be able to rest peacefully until I know that you stand a chance at surviving."

"I…I promise." Leslie's voice warbled as she uttered those words. Connor remained silent for a moment.

"It's okay to cry Leslie." Connor held out an arm and pulled the girl closer to him, for her to have something to cry into. And she welcomed the comfort that she had denied herself for so long. She started to sob uncontrollably, feeling the loss of her parents, the torture of her uncle, the guilt of her acts of rage – everything finally poured out of her. And Connor held her close making sure that she knew he would never let her go.

But one thing went unnoticed by both people – a farewell present from Matt. The final nail from his nail gun had fired, despite Connor's attempt to make Matt miss. The nail had not gone into its intended target – the center of Connor's forehead. However, it had still hit Connor, and it remained there – sticking out from the base of the boy's neck. Connor's body continued to spasm with pain, and the new pain by his throat was undetected.

But the two contestants remained as they were, too lost in each other to worry about The Program or possible threats or anything else. They remained together, like they had for a good majority of the game.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 23, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 43, 48, 50, 51, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 26, 46

(9) Contestants remaining


	57. Vengeance

_So, he is dead._

The tiny Asian gripped his shotgun as he stared down long and hard at the ground before him. Or rather, he stared at the corpse on the ground before him. The corpse itself was so large that it had been hard to miss, even in the dark. Minh (Boy #6) bent down and examined the body that had once belonged to Sid (Boy #14).

_It looks like he has the same injuries as the last time I saw him. Did he bleed to death?_

Minh glanced over to his side, to the less noticeable object not very far away.

_And what's her story? Did someone kill both of them at the same time?_

Minh stood completely erect, glancing at one corpse, over to the other, and then back again, as if trying to analyze a crime scene for clues. Eventually, he sighed in defeat and futility. It wasn't like anything was going to come from determining what had killed these two people. The important part was that they were both dead.

The Asian boy stared down at Sid's corpse, his eyes catching the all important detail he had missed several other times. There was a small hole in the center of Sid's forehead, clearly made by a bullet of some kind.

Minh remembered back to when he and Nathan (Boy #19) had first stumbled onto this spot. There had been three people. Sid was wounded and already on the ground. The second had been a boy wielding a semi-automatic handgun, among other visible weapons. No doubt he had been the one to return and finish the giant off with a single bullet. The final person had been-

The boy inhaled deeply. One of the main reasons he'd come back to this place was the hope of running in to her in the same place they had met. He'd listened for her name during the announcements, but he'd been disappointed. Ariana (Girl #18) was still alive out there somewhere. Minh only wished he knew exactly where, since he'd rush there in a heartbeat. The girl had single handedly driven Minh and his boyfriend apart, only to murder Nathan once she had the opportunity.

_No, once the shotgun was out of her reach._

Minh gripped the powerful gun in both hands before observing it. This gun had protected him fiercely during his performance in The Program. The small boy would have most likely died in his first encounter with many other weapons. His hockey and figure skating days gave him powerful legs, but that would only help him run away faster. If he had been forced to protect himself with something like a knife, the boy would be dead. Instead, he'd been dealt a lucky hand, and given one of the most powerful weapons in the game.

But that power was a double edged sword, so to speak. It was the shotgun that had drawn Ariana into his group, and likewise, it would have made him a target for any other people who spied the weak looking Asian boy holding a large gun. So Minh had to ask himself whether the protection was worth the danger that it brought.

_I wish Nathan had been given the shotgun._

There was no doubt in the Asian's mind that if his boyfriend had been given the powerful weapon that he would still be alive. Nathan had survived on his own with a simple deck of cards – no map, no food, no water. With a shotgun at his side, Nathan would have easily found Minh in the early part of the game and the two of them would have had the rest of the time in The Program to be together. But instead, Nathan was dead. Killed by some evil lying bitch.

Minh wanted revenge more than anything at that moment. He wanted to see Ariana sobbing as she looked up at him, pleading for her life as the shotgun pellets ripped right through her two-faced…well, face. He was sure that taking her life would fill him with nothing but contentment, and yet…

The boy stared down at the dead giant at his feet, remembering when he had first seen him. He and Nathan had just been sitting in that empty apartment, when the door had exploded open and two figures had rushed in. Sid and…Paul (Boy #21), yeah, that had been his name. Paul was the only other person, besides Ariana and Sid, that he could actually picture himself enjoy murdering. His wide Cheshire cat smile still seemed to jump out at Minh, even as his corpse laid on the ground.

Minh had played to win during that fight. He could claim that he was trying to protect himself and Nathan, but that was false. He wanted to take Paul out, and he wanted to do it himself. As sick as it sounded, when that girl had lost it and murdered Paul with the shotgun, a part of Minh wished it had been he that pulled the trigger. He had found very little satisfaction in Paul's death. Would the same happen with Ariana? Or would ending her with his own hands remove any hate still existing inside him?

The truth of the matter was that it would not. This was the fact that prevented Minh from playing to win. There would be no satisfaction in killing. The hate would continue to grow, eating away at him until all that remained was a shell of a human being, only capable of killing. Minh had seen the documentaries on the past winners of The Program. Most were now dead, committing suicide not long after their victory. The remaining majority was clinically insane, clawing at invisible attackers in the night. Very few were able to reenter society, and those that did had a very hard time dodging the notoriety of being a murderer. And if Minh played to win, that's what he would become.

No, Minh would not play. He would protect himself, but he would not allow himself to sink down to playing. He would not allow himself to feel the satisfaction of murder. He would not allow himself to be consumed with hate. Minh would rise all above that. And his shotgun would save him from everyone else who wanted to steal away his life.

It was at that time that the moon suddenly revealed itself from behind the cover of the clouds still floating about in the sky. The sudden light shone down on the small Asian boy and the surrounding area, revealing the two corpses by his feet in a new light. However, the boy's attention was drawn elsewhere. The moonlight had revealed more than the area. It exposed the intruder who had crept into Minh's presence. And just like that, the righteousness welling within him was quickly expelled.

* * *

"Wait!" the girl whispered. She stopped, gasping for breath, her hands on her knees. Her companion slowly trudged back, also out of breath. "I don't think…she's chasing us." Molly (Girl #9) said between breaths.

Kara (Girl #24) gazed back, looking for movement, listening for sound. No doubt the two girls made plenty of noise as they raced out of the urban area and back into the forest. But it appeared that none of that mattered. The two girls had remained undetected after narrowly escaping from their attacker. It seemed that they were once again safe. For the moment.

"You saved us." Molly said as she plopped down on the ground, pulling some water from Kara's duffel bag. Kara shook her head.

"No, I nearly killed us. No one would have found us if I hadn't fallen asleep against the window. I was careless. We were lucky we weren't spotted by someone with a gun." Kara sighed with exhaustion. The wind shifted slightly, blowing the dark leaves a different way. They whispered softly, and the girls quieted their breathing, as if attempting to understand the stories of the leaves.

"I'm not surprised that she's playing." Kara murmured.

"What did you say?" Molly asked, leaning forward.

"Ariana (Girl #18)." Kara said, staring over at her friend, "I'm not surprised she's playing."

"Well, I guess she's not exactly known for her kindness or sympathy." Molly said, "But she's supposed to be some kind of genius. I thought that smart people would…I don't know, try to find a way out instead of playing. I thought she'd be above killing."

"All that brain allows her to do," Kara replied, "Is to kill more efficiently. Her intelligence gives her an edge over other people. It would dumb of her not to exploit that." She paused for a moment, "And as far as I can remember, she never put any effort into making human relationships. So, we've got a brilliant girl with no ties to anyone else here. Why not play?"

"Not everyone who is alone out there will play." Molly said, "And not everyone with friends in the playing field will avoid killing others. It all depends on the person."

Kara nodded solemnly. Ten contestants were left, as far as she knew. How many were playing? Ariana was. Kara and Molly were not. Bruce (Girl #23) would never play. Jeff (Boy #22) was quiet, but Kara couldn't picture him playing to win. That meant that out of ten, four were not playing and one was. What was going on with the other five? Were there more people like Kara and Molly trying to survive together?

"What would you do," Molly asked, "if Bruce was playing?"

"Bruce won't play." Kara replied, "You and I both know that."

"We both feel we know Bruce really well, but do we know him enough to put our lives in his hands?"

"I do." Kara said simply.

"What I'm trying to say, Kara." Molly said, "What if, by some sort of…horrific mistake, that Bruce gets it in his mind to play. I know it sounds unlikely, but what if it happens? What do we do?"

"We keep doing what we have been." Kara replied, "We run."

"But how long is that going to work?" Molly asked, "Eventually, we're not going to be able to run anymore."

"So what do you want to do?" Kara said, "You want to play? Is that what you're saying?"

"No, Kara. I don't want to play. I just…I just can't see us getting anywhere if we just keep running. Doesn't it seem futile to you?"

"What do you want to do instead? Wait around for someone to kill us?" Kara replied a little harshly, "Or maybe you'd rather end it yourself?"

"Stop putting words in my mouth." Molly replied with venom, "I'm…never mind. Forget I said anything."

Kara didn't press the matter, and so instead the two girls returned to their silence. Molly stared over at her friend, almost questioning whether she knew her anymore. When Molly thought back, Kara had always reminded her of glass. Sometimes the girl appeared fragile and easily broken. Sometimes she appeared hard and tough to crack. And even broken glass had sharp edges. Glass had been the perfect way to describe Kara in the past.

But Kara was different now. She could be a bit of a bitch sometimes, but she was always there when a friend needed her. And it seemed like that part of her was gone. Kara was stuck in the survival mindset, and everything else was taking a backseat, including consideration. Molly understood how important it was to survive. She was not prone to suicide, nor did she think that it was the best option. But Kara was taking it too far. Molly felt that maybe, eventually, Kara would sacrifice her friend in order to keep living.

_Stop thinking that. She's scared, just like me._

That was the truth of the matter. Molly was scared. The showdown with Ariana was just a prelude of things to come. The two girls could only run for so long. Sooner or later they would have to stay and fight. Kara could cast a blind eye on that if she wanted, but Molly knew there was chance they would not meet up with Bruce and gain his protection. And the only weapon the two girls had was Kara's designated weapon – a bowling ball. Molly felt slightly vulnerable having left her duffel bag back in that apartment, but she decided that it didn't matter very much. Kara ate very little, so there would be plenty of food and water for the both of them.

_Maybe…maybe Kara will return to normal if we find Bruce._

The silence wore on.

* * *

The girl froze. She couldn't have guessed that the moon would decide to peak its face out the only break in the clouds, but it had, and that had definitely complicated matters. The element of surprise was gone. She had been exposed. Ariana was now a target.

At first, she wasn't sure what the best course of action was. She could attempt to stay and fight, but statistically, that did not appear to be the best decision. In terms of weaponry, she was clearly outmatched. A smarter decision would be to run for her life. But the allure of this kill was too great to allow the girl to simply run away. And the rewards? Unfathomable.

Minh made the first move.

"You!" he half hissed, half cried. In one fluid motion, the boy swung up his shotgun and took aim, clocking off a single powerful shot. Ariana dropped to the ground, the pellets flying overhead. That had been enough of a reminder that running would be the best decision. She hated to let the shotgun slip through her fingers once again, but the priority was to stay alive. The girl was up and running in an instant. Minh hissed through gritted teeth and, pumping the shotgun once, immediately gave chase.

Ariana suddenly regretted her decision to return to where she had first met Nathan and Minh. The major motivation was to return to the corpse of the giant who they had left there. From what she remembered, the boy had had a massive metal shield, and while Ariana could not see herself carrying the dented object around with her, her brilliant mind had already begun forming some kind of trap in which it could be used.

_A trap!_

The two words instantly sprang to the girl's mind as she sprinted around the empty houses of the suburban area. The majority of her weapons were close range, and that would give her a slight advantage if she could somehow get within Minh's personal space to use them. But that was way too risky. Even if she could manage to get close enough to him, a well placed shotgun shell at a short distance was deadly.

_Is there some way to get near him without having to worry about that shotgun?_

No immediate answers flew to her mind. The girl cried out in surprise as she collapsed to the ground, having tripped over something large. She glanced down and saw Paul's trademark smile still beaming in the night. She kicked the dead body away in disgust and was back on her feet, just as the shotgun exploded from somewhere behind her. She gasped in surprise and glanced back to see the Asian boy running full tilt toward her.

Ariana cursed inside her head and pushed herself onward. She could attempt to enter the forest, but something inside the girl refused to let her simply escape. The pride of her superior mind pulsed inside her, forcing her to think of some way, any way, to get that shotgun. She changed direction, moving further into the suburban area.

The moon had returned behind the dark clouds, but that hadn't seemed to faze Minh at all. His eyes focused solely on the girl sprinting ahead of him. His strong, wiry legs finally coming into use, he could slowly see himself gaining on Ariana. He grunted as he attempted to widen his stride, hopefully catching up to her sooner. The murderess glanced back, seeing that the Asian boy was, in fact, gaining on her. Her eyes widened with fear for just a second before she turned back, starting to become a little frantic.

The map flashed inside her mind, and Ariana remembered that she'd be heading straight into a danger zone if she didn't change direction. She considered trying to trick the boy into wandering into the area himself, since he seemed to be blocking everything else out except his revenge. But there were far too many variables to take into account. That plan would not work.

Ariana quickly changed direction, and Minh followed suit soon after that. Again the girl cursed inside her head. He'd chase her until the ends of the Earth, so long as it meant that he could kill her. And he would, if she didn't do something about it.

_Think, damn it! THINK!_

There was no time. No time to consider a method of attack. She dashed around the side of a house and then did so again, making Minh lose sight of her. She quieted her breathing, despite the need to gasp for air, and slid down into a nearby bush. The boy came into view in an instant, and he stopped, slowly glaring in every direction.

_I know she's here somewhere. I'd hear her if she was still running. So where is she hiding?_

The danger was not gone. Ariana could easily tell that Minh was not fooled by her vanishing act. He'd find her eventually if she continued to hide. It felt like her brain was about to explode as she continued to rack it for ideas. Minh slowly crept forward, looking around for any kind of movement, listening for breathing. He moved a little further away from Ariana, but if she made a sound, she'd still be dead.

_I don't believe it! This little piece of shit is going to kill me! Why can't I think of anything? Fuck!_

Ariana leaned back slightly, her hand placed on the ground. Surprisingly enough, it closed on something that was not soil. At first, the girl was confused, but she deftly lifted the item up to her face, staring at it in the darkness.

_A bike chain?_

She stifled a gasp. She glanced upwards through the bushes concealing her at the very familiar looking house. She stared down at the bike chain, then back up at the house. It started slowly. The possibilities floated around inside her brilliant mind, and slowly, a plan formed. She smiled widely as she tightly gripped the bike chain.

Ariana waited a little bit longer. There was no reason to rush things. If Minh manage to shoot her as she was escaping the bushes, then it didn't matter what her plan was – she'd be dead. He continued to move forward, and the moment Ariana decided he was far enough away, she sprung out of the bushes and around the corner of the house.

"You won't escape me, bitch!" Minh cried out firing another shot that unfortunately missed again. Ariana quickly raced around the corner of the house, yanking open the door and vanishing into the darkness inside. Minh stopped at the doorway as he turned the corner, his heart beating fast in his chest.

_This is bad._

Minh was still breathing heavily from his chase, but it was also from the anxiety that racked his body. It was no doubt pitch black inside that house, and that gave the girl many little hiding places to pounce out from. She'd found the advantage, and was using it against him. The Asian boy had the weaponry advantage, but that wouldn't mean anything if he couldn't find his target.

An image of Minh's boyfriend flashed inside his head. The body was hunched forward slightly, the stain that had come from the red river pouring from his chest still very prevalent. His eyes-

Minh seethed with pure hatred as he reached forward, grabbing hold of the doorknob and swinging it out, aiming the shotgun ahead into the oblivion. He took a precautionary step forward, edging into the darkness instead of jumping in headfirst. Minh knew that his eyes could not be relied upon, so he opened his ears, listening for even the slightest sound. He took another step forward, listening for any breathing that was not his own. At that moment, he had completely submerged himself inside the empty domicile. His eyes adjusted to dark faster than he had anticipated, and he was able to tell the room before him was empty, at least in the center. The corners were far to dark to peer into, and so the boy avoided them, slowly making his way through the house.

A sudden clunk shocked the boy and he spun around, firing a shell into the darkness. He listened again, but the sound had disappeared. He stopped for a moment, thoughts racing around in his head. The sound hadn't originated nearby, but it had sounded like it was right on top of him. Minh slowly glanced upwards.

_Upstairs._

He fumbled around in the dark until his hand reached out and found a banister. He knelt down and felt with his open hand the stairs that traced the way to the second floor. Minh reloaded his shotgun and slowly crept up the stairs. He took each step as quietly as he could, feeling around in the dark for any support he could find.

The Asian boy raised his foot and brought it down on the same level as his other foot. He'd made it all the way up the stairs. He drew in a breath as quietly as he could and glanced around the corner. He nearly gasped in surprise. Directly in front of him was an open doorway, and on the other side, he could make out a small, feminine looking figure.

The hatred immediately took over and he emerged around the corner, firing a shotgun shell at the figure. The body jolted as the pellets penetrated the flesh, and spun slightly, but remained standing. With a cry of righteous fury, Minh raced into the room, firing the shotgun again. A hole was blown straight through the body's stomach. It was at that moment that the moon appeared again through the side window. Minh's eyes widened as he got a better look at the person in front of him.

_Short hair?_

With a shriek, Ariana emerged from behind the door to the room, jumping on Minh's back and tackling him to the floor. He cried out in surprise as Ariana sat up, her weight still on the boy's back. He tried to spin the shotgun around, but found that it was nearly impossible to do that and to make a decent shot. He quickly spun it the opposing way with one hand, but Ariana swung her dagger out with her left hand, the blade connecting with the metal barrel and knocking it out of Minh's grasp. The girl swung her tire iron high in the air and then brought it down, connecting with the back of Minh's skull.

The boy jolted and even in the darkness, spots appeared in front of his eyes. He tried to roll over and throw Ariana off his back, when another blow was delivered to the back of his head. He grunted in pain as he stared to his side. The shotgun was still within his reach, if he could just-

The tire iron connected again, and Minh felt blood trickle down from his head. He reached out for the shotgun again, when the dagger sliced down, pinning the boy's hand to the floor. He screamed out in pain and thrashed his legs, trying to do anything to throw the girl from his back. Another strike from the tire iron and the boy stopped thrashing. He weakly tried to form a fist as his hatred burned inside his dying body. Sid's last words flew back to him at that moment.

"_I'll see you in hell. And she's going to put you there!"_

Another strike to back of Minh's head. The Asian boy heard his own skull crack, and a tingling sensation raced through his body. He watched as the dagger was removed from his pinned hand.

_I was too stubborn to listen to Sid. I was too stubborn to let Ariana go. I wanted revenge so badly…and now…_

Minh couldn't feel the next two strikes to his head, his eyes watering over on the ground beneath his killer.

_Nathan…I'm…sorry…so sorry…_

Ariana raised the dagger high and struck, splitting Minh's broken heart in two through his back. His body convulsed like Nathan's had and Ariana finally climbed to her feet. She watched the boy die beneath her before reaching down and pulling the dagger free. She then walked over to the other body in the room. The corpse had a bike chain wrapped tightly around its neck. On the other end, an ice pick was slid between links in the chain, and the sharp point was jabbed high into the wall. The lone ice pick was enough to support to corpse, making it appear that the body was standing on its feet. Ariana pulled the ice pick free and the small body of Corey (Boy #15) toppled to the ground.

The girl smiled wickedly as she slipped the ice pick back into her duffel bag, along with both her dagger and the tire iron. She had a new toy to play with. Ariana walked over to the shotgun lying just out of reach of Minh's corpse. She knelt down and gingerly picked it up, feeling the power it contained surge through her body.

_The statistics are now in my favor. This game's as good as won._

As the adrenaline slowly left her body, the fatigue began to take over. The chase had taken more out of the girl than she was aware. However, she saw no problem in getting some rest. She now had more than enough weaponry to take out any other contestant remaining, even that dangerous boy who had nearly blown her head off with her own gun. There was no problem in taking a victory power nap. But she would not do so in this room. It reeked of blood.

Resolve and power surged through Ariana's body as she stole the remaining shotgun shells from Minh's duffel bag. Her mind had been tested, and she had conquered, just like she always did. There was no one in this game who was her mental superior, and she would be the one to claim first prize – life. She walked to the open doorway, the moon once again revealing itself for a moment from behind the clouds. She paused, watching the light glimmer over the new necklace strapped around Corey's throat. She moved back, removing the bike chain and placing it in her duffel bag with her other weapons.

_Maybe my designated weapon wasn't so bad after all._

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 23, 24, 25, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 43, 48, 50, 51, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 26, 46

(8) Contestants remaining


	58. Dear God:

The noise was almost deafening. Sometimes it lessened to a dull roar, and other times it rose so high that you couldn't think straight. This was how lunch was conducted by the students inside their echo-inducing cafeteria. The noise ascended and descended as one, people not needing to yell over the racket when it was quiet and nearly losing their voices trying to talk over other students when it became loud. However, it appeared that one person was not affected by the noise. He sat alone, not at all attempting to follow the recommended instructions of his therapist. He could still hear his voice.

"This is going to be a trying experience for you. Don't expect this to be easy, because high school is far from that. But I do believe this will be a good experience, if you let it be."

The boy said nothing, as per usual. The male therapist sighed softly. "I don't know how this length of time has felt for you, but it feels like we've just started to me. It may seem a bit rushed, but I would like for you to start high school next week like you had planned before…"

The boy stared at the man before him, not breaking eye contact, but also not speaking. He nodded slightly like he understood, and apparently, that had been enough.

"I know this might be a little scary for you, suddenly thrown back into this situation."

No response.

"But I can't tell you how important it is to reenter a social environment. Your parents have told me that you shut yourself in your room for extended periods of time. That is not the correct path of recovery. It is impossible to exist in this world without other people – you need to learn how to interact with them again, if you ever hope of functioning in the real world."

The boy sighed deeply.

"I know that that doesn't excite you very much, but as we've already discussed, your old classmates are no where near you anymore. Your parents' decision to move and to remove you from any other such circumstances was heartfelt and genuine. You should take full advantage of this and try your luck in a new school."

The boy nodded softly, his gaze still unbroken.

"Not everyone is like your old classmates, Jeff (Boy #22)." The man said softly. He stiffened slightly, and broke his gaze for the first time. The watchful eyes of his therapist noticed this. He pressed on, "And I know, that you don't trust me, Jeff. Despite all that you have told me, I realize that there must be more at play here. There is still more you are not telling me."

Jeff fidgeted in the large brown armchair. For a moment, he wondered why chairs in therapists' offices were always so uncomfortable, when the first thing they all said was to relax. His attention returned to the conversation (or lack thereof) at hand, and his gaze returned to eye level.

"In that entire class, there wasn't one person who was kind to you? Even on occasion?"

The boy paused, then slowly shook his head no. His therapist nodded and then glanced over at the digital clock on a nearby table.

"Our session for today is nearly over. Is there anything else you'd like to talk about today, Jeff?"

He immediately shook his head and stood to leave.

"Okay, then, I'll see you next week, and we can talk about preparing yourself for the upcoming school experience."

The boy nodded, "Thank you, Doctor Chiodo." The Japanese therapist smiled warmly and watched him go. For a moment, his thoughts drifted to a certain young girl he had treated while still in Japan. A young girl who appeared to be frightened of everything…

The man was confused why the girl had entered his thoughts and instead grabbed the door as Jeff walked through it. He felt like he had more to say, but prevented himself from doing so. Jeff slowly walked out of the office.

He'd recommended joining student organizations. He'd said to approach strangers and begin conversations. He'd strongly urged him to smile. Jeff had opted for the "None of the above" option. The boy had somehow found the only table in the entire cafeteria that was completely vacant. Some other freshmen looked on in slight wonder at the boy who wished to sit alone. Some whispered that he had frightened away the seniors who usually sit there, while others talked about the students who had tried to sit with him, only to run away crying a few moments later. Some disliked him already, for attempting to stand out and be different. Others feared his cold stare and uncaring expression. Even the upper classmen felt slightly uneasy as they stole glances at him. But what truly caught everyone's attention was when another new boy, who had come in late after the lunch bell casually approached the table and sat down directly across from him.

"Hi." Bruce (Boy #23) greeted the boy warmly, "Mind if I sit here?"

"Do you see anyone else in those seats?" Jeff replied without glancing up from his food.

"No." Bruce replied slowly.

"Then what's the problem?"

Most people would have turned away, but much to Jeff's surprise, the boy sat down and began to munch his food. Jeff considered getting up and moving, but he saw no open seats, and he was still starving after missing breakfast so not to be late. Since the intruder was not forcing him into small talk, then Jeff could endure a single lunch period. It didn't remain quiet for long.

"I got lost coming to lunch. Has that happened to you yet?" Bruce asked.

No response.

"It's always tough going to a new school. Although, I guess all the freshmen are in a new school now. You're a freshman too, right?"

Jeff paused and then nodded.

"I thought so. But from what I've learned from a few people I've talked to, some of the incoming freshmen from the local middle schools get tours so that they won't get lost. I didn't get a tour because I'm new in the area. Have you lived here long?"

Jeff considered lying, but there was…something sincere about his guest. The question appeared innocent enough, and it sounded like he truly wanted to know how long Jeff had resided in the area. With a sigh he said, "About two months."

"Really? So you moved here at the beginning of the summer, huh? Me and my dad moved here about two weeks ago. He decided it would a good change of scenery ever since…well, my mom passed away."

Jeff stared up in disbelief and made eye contact for the first time with the boy across from him. Was this kid some kind of idiot? Casually handing out such an emotional and intense piece of information to just anyone? Was he looking for someone to use it against him? A single statement from Jeff, and he could guarantee that the boy would run off in tears, learning the hard way that personal information was not to be distributed so easily. But for some reason, Jeff decided against crushing his guest. After all, it appeared that he had just been handed a very valuable piece of ammunition to be used when it became necessary. For the time being, there was a distinct…presence about the boy in front of him. Jeff couldn't place his finger on it, but it almost felt like the boy radiated protection from his body. He had no way of testing that notion, but for some reason, Jeff felt surprisingly secure in his guest's presence.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Jeff responded with as much sympathy as he could muster. Bruce looked off into space for a moment, but then returned with a weak smile. The two sat in silence for a moment, but it was once again broken by Bruce.

"Listen, I'm still relatively new to this area." Bruce said with some difficulty, "And I haven't met any people my own age yet. So, I was wondering if you'd like to, I don't know, hang out some time?"

The question had caught Jeff completely off guard. Was this boy serious? The two of them had been "talking" for ten minutes tops, and already one wanted to spend more time with the other. He didn't even know Jeff.

_Don't be fooled. This must be some kind of trap. I need to use the information about his mother against him now, before he picks up on something and tries to hurt me!_

"I can understand if you don't want to." Bruce interrupted Jeff's thoughts, "Honestly, I don't know what I'd say if I was in your position. I just figured, since we're both relatively new to the area, and since we both seem to be lacking in the…" Bruce glanced back and forth at the empty table the two sat at, "…friend department, maybe we can enjoy each other's company. Or at least give ourselves something to do on the weekends."

Jeff's brain screamed at him to refuse the offer and to tell his guest to go spend some time with his mother in hell, but for some reason, he didn't. In all honesty, the time spent alone at his house was more stifling and overbearing than the boy could handle at times. Any excuse to leave was a welcome one. And if his guest tried to add to the boy's pain, Jeff always had that trump card up his sleeve.

"Sounds like fun." Jeff said apathetically as he glanced back down at his food. The bell rang at that moment, and every student in the cafeteria rose at once to make their way to the next class. All except for two boys who sat alone at a table, a good majority of their food still left untouched.

"By the way, my name's Bruce." The boy held out a hand. Jeff glanced at it quickly, examining it for a layer of spit or a piece of trash. He saw neither and so he hesitantly extended his own hand and shook the other.

"I'm Jeff."

Bruce smiled one last time before standing and joining the herd moving away from the cafeteria. He thought back to the very recent past, to that one terrifying moment of walking into the lunch room and not knowing where to sit. The boy thought it would have been a little easier if he had gone with everyone else. He had a greater chance of being invited to sit with some people if they were all sitting together somewhere. But everyone had already been sitting when he entered the cafeteria. No one was going to offer an invitation to him then.

But then he had seen that boy sitting all alone at that empty table. And it was at that moment that Bruce had felt something rise inside him. It wasn't pity or anything like that, but rather a sense of admiration. There was a boy who didn't need to sit with anyone to feel included or important. He created himself and allowed himself to exist alone. That took a certain degree of bravery, to which Bruce felt his own degree of envy. He doubted that that boy had been worried about where to sit when he had sauntered into the cafeteria. But a new question had arisen. And the question had obviously been, would he allow himself to exist while in the company of someone else?

While Bruce had originally been worried about the boy's blatant sarcasm and hard stare, once he started talking things became a little more natural. Granted the conversation had been most definitely one sided, but it had still occurred. Maybe…maybe this was the beginning of a supportive friendship for the both of them.

The noise continued.

* * *

_Dear God,_

_It's been a while since we've talked. I know that that is mostly my fault. Well, completely my fault. My problem with you started back when Charlie was MIA. My mother was a wreck and my father seemed to be in a constant daze, and no matter how hard or how often I prayed, there was no good news. We all thought he was dead. And I remember specifically, the day that I decided that praying was a waste of time, we learned that Charlie had been captured, and was being returned in a prisoner exchange. It was like he was returning from the dead. That's when I stopped praying._

_It's funny how The Program makes you think about your past. When faced with your demise, all you can think about is how you got here. So many things could have been different, so many variables that could have changed my future. But I can't waste any more time thinking about what has happened or what could have happened. What matters is what's happening now. And put simply, I'm dying._

_It's almost funny how I came to this point. I was shot three times, once in the leg with a few stray shotgun pellets, once in the stomach with a handgun, and most recently with the nail that's sticking out from my neck. I'm assuming that most of the contestants here die all at once, not experiencing what I currently am. I don't think that many of them bleed to death…slowly. I'm not trying to say that I'm hurting more than any of them - I guess I'm just rambling._

_It's too late for me to beg for my life. I understand that I'm going to die, and it would be selfish of me to try to bargain my way out. I'm not here to talk on my behalf. I'm not here to talk about my family. My mother still prays to you every day, and she believes that you do everything you can for all of us. That's good enough for me. Losing me will be tough on all of them, but I know that they will be okay with time, with your help._

_I want to…talk to you about Leslie _(Girl #25)._ I can't even imagine what her life's been like. I doubt that she can recall even one truly happy moment. I've gotten to know this girl like no other person, and I…don't want her to suffer anymore. For all the bad hands dealt to her, she deserves another chance to…_

_I'm not asking you to send her into a rage and kill everyone here. I'm not asking you to send your angels down and whisk her away to a better life. All I want is for you to protect her. Please…just do what you can…to keep her safe…_

_Leslie…I know you can't…can't hear me…but I want you to know…that I do care about you…so much…_

* * *

Leslie awoke with a start. She blinked a few times, realizing that her eyes were open, despite the darkness that still swam before her. The next thing she realized was that her arms were wrapped around and her head rested on top of some kind of object. She jumped back and stared at her companion Connor (Boy #4) in slight embarrassment. She wiped away a single tear that remained on the side of her face and realized that she had actually cried herself to sleep.

What surprised the girl the most was the sense of freedom that seemed to possess her at the moment. It felt like her tears had contained her sorrow, and when she had cried them, her pain had left her body. The purging of her body had left her feeling surprisingly light, like she could leap up above the trees and then land softly in the same spot. For the first time in a very long time, the girl felt like smiling.

Leslie took a long gratifying breath before speaking. "Connor, wake up. I want to talk to you." This new feeling was foreign to the girl. She wanted to understand it more. And she wanted help. After blocking out emotion for so long, she was finally ready to welcome its reintegration. She wanted to become stronger. But she also wanted to become human. Leslie believed that Connor held the answer. He would help her.

"Connor?"

Leslie moved forward and knelt slightly, staring at Connor's drooping head. She didn't want to touch him again, since she still felt embarrassed from when she woke up with her arms around him. Slowly she extended a hand, gripping his shoulder firmly. Again he didn't respond. Leslie shook the boy slightly and watched as his head bobbled in the dark.

She retracted her hand and then extended it out again, gently touching the boy's cheek. It was surprisingly cold. He hand slowly drifted downward until it bumped against something metal at the base of the boy's neck. Leslie closed her hand around it and pulled, examining it much more closely. She gasped when she realized it was a nail.

Leslie's eyes wandered off to the side, where she could just barely make out the corpse near by. Her eyes darted back and forth in confusion, when all of a sudden it dawned on her. Her eyes opened wide as she dropped the nail to the ground. She grabbed Connor by both shoulders and began to shake him hard.

"Wake up, Connor!" she hissed, "God damn it, wake up!" The boy moved unnaturally as Leslie shook him, and suddenly she let go, his body toppling over to the ground. She could see his eyes clearly now. It was amazing how they seemed to sparkle through the darkness while appearing dull and lifeless at the same time.

"No…" Leslie whimpered. The urge to cry rose inside her, but she instinctively pushed it away. She gazed sideways at the corpse of Connor's killer and the nail gun that was still nearby. She hissed with fury as she jumped to her feet and grabbed the nail gun, aiming down at the body and pulling the trigger. It was easy to tell that the weapon was empty. Leslie dropped the nail gun to the ground and she collapsed down after it. She stared back at Connor's corpse, slowly crawling over to it. She reached out to it before pulling back her hand and clenching it into a fist. She felt the rage slowly building within her.

_He contains your strength…_

She froze, hearing the voice inside her head. It wasn't fair – she'd finally found someone who cared about her, someone who could help her become stronger, and they were stolen away from her. With Connor gone, the girl felt like all her strength was gone. Leslie thought back to what she could remember just before falling asleep.

_There's still so much out there for you to live through. There's still so much joy in the world that you deserve to experience. _

She took a long breath, the rage slowly draining from her body.

_I want you to promise me that you will do whatever it takes to win The Program._

Leslie reached out to Connor one more time, this time towards his waist. She gripped the hammer protruding from his pocket and flipped it around. She inserted part of the claw of the hammer through her belt loop on her jeans and reached behind her to where her hunting knife was safely tucked away. Satisfied that the knife was still there, the girl walked back over to where she had dropped the nail gun, and decided that it was not worth lugging the object around since it no longer had any usable ammunition. She dropped it back to the ground before gazing one last time at the corpse at her feet. Her eyes traveled to the torso, and they finally picked up on a fact that had escaped her many times before.

_That vest…_

How could she have missed that vest so many times? Leslie knelt down and tugged the vest off the corpse before holding it up in front of her face. She turned her head slightly, staring at her companion's dead body.

_Too bad you didn't have this earlier, Connor._

She slipped the vest over her head, feeling the weight it brought along with its protection. Leslie walked over to her duffel bag and unzipped it, glancing at the contents inside. It looked like she still had plenty food and water, along with the rope coiled nicely inside. It seemed like she was finally able to leave the area. She pulled the map out and glanced at it, not exactly sure where she should go. Leslie pulled the watch out as well, noticing that two hours had already passed since the announcements. It was half past eight, and that meant that a new area had become a danger zone. She marked it down, and then returned to the question of where to go next. She still wasn't sure where to go, never mind how to get there. Connor was always so much better at navigating.

Leslie sighed, putting the map away and slowly moving to the edge of the clearing. She stopped when she reached the border, glancing back through the darkness one last time at the two dead boys on the opposite side.

_I intend to keep my promise Connor. I can't see myself playing to win. But I will give myself a fighting chance. For you._

She turned back and pushed the shrubbery away, leaving the only friend she could ever remember behind. The girl felt extremely vulnerable traveling alone. It had been a little while before the girl had moved around by herself, and it was not a welcome condition. All the anxiety she had felt returned, along with the fear it brought.

_I will fight to survive. I…just wish you were here with me Connor._

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 43, 48, 50, 51, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 46

(7) Contestants remaining


	59. The Inferno

The boy emerged, stumbling out of the dense forest. He took a long deep breath, feeling the cool sea air rush into his lungs and through his whole body. He shivered slightly, but then brushed the chill away. He stared out at the salty water, watching the waves crash on the shore before receding back into the encompassing ocean. Farther out, the still water reflected the night sky overhead. The boy turned his gaze upward, watching the stars twinkle. He decided that he had had his fill of nature's beauty and removed his shoes, sitting down and feeling the sand rush between his toes.

Isaac (Boy #16) couldn't remember the last time he'd been to the beach. The last time had been a few years after his dad had left, and his mother had attempted to connect with the son whom she didn't understand anymore. The boy could remember going to the beach with both of his parents, but it was only a matter of time before they would start fighting. Isaac would want an ice cream, and his mother would give him two dollars to buy something. But by the time he got back, his father would be yelling at his mother for handing over money for ice cream, but refused to give him any to bet at the races. His mother would yell back that they were two completely different things, and the young boy would no longer want his melting popsicle.

Despite the fights, Isaac always loved the beach. It didn't hurt when you fell in the sand, and swimming was a nice change, since there were not too many places to do so in the city. What Isaac enjoyed most was covering himself in cool damp sand by the water's edge. He'd pack on a layer of the sand that would easily stick to his skin, and then lumber over to the ocean, doing his best to keep as much sand on him as possible. When he got deep enough, the boy would dive under and spring back up, clean as ever. For some reason, the simple act amazed and entertained the boy.

It was like scrubbing yourself clean after a messy fight. No matter how dirty the boy made himself, the water always washed all of it away, like magic. And the boy's mother told him that the salt water was good for healing wounds also. Isaac had wondered what other healing powers the ocean possessed. As a boy, Isaac once thought that if he got his parents into the water, they would be cleaned too and not have to fight anymore. And his dad would stop going to the races to lose money. He'd cried until they both went in, only to be disappointed on the ride home, when yet another fight had started.

Isaac pushed his memories away. There were far more important matters that needed to be addressed. The first was the most obvious: The Program was slowly winding down. It was nearly ten, and when that happened, another area would become a danger zone. Almost four hours prior to that moment, Mr. Smith had appeared on the loudspeaker to inform the remaining contestants that there were only ten of them left. Who knew how many were left now? How many would last until the next set of announcements? Isaac could only hope that he caught a lucky break and that a good number of the remaining contestants took themselves out. He wasn't looking forward to more battles. In all honesty, the boy was exhausted, and it seemed like The Program was weighing heavily on him.

The boy reached into his bag, pushing aside the two grenades lying dormant inside. He pulled out the collar detector and gazed at the blank screen. If he could get the device to work, then tracking the remaining contestants would be plenty easier.

_It fucking sucks that it was damaged in a previous battle_.

Isaac thought back to the recent past, when the device dropped into his possession. Gloria (Girl #22) had still been alive back then. Isaac hated to admit it, but he was relieved that Gloria was dead. He had cared a lot about the girl – the news of her death had driven that point home. He had mourned her loss, but the boy had moved on since then. When he thought about it, the two of them had both wanted to win. And since that was the case, eventually, one of them was going to die. Isaac wondered what Gloria would have done if the tables had been turned.

What was it she had said? Something about only wanting to lose to Isaac. She'd said that he was the only one who knew her well enough to kill her, whatever that meant. Killing was no where near as passionate as she had made it out to be. Isaac had killed four contestants himself, but the memories of those moments weren't very pronounced inside his head. They all seemed to blur together, like a cheesy montage. Was he supposed to know and understand his victims more than himself? Isaac doubted that would happen. They were simply names attached to faceless people.

Ten remained at six that evening. Almost four hours later, Isaac believed that number had dropped. That meant less than nine more faceless people to remove from the game. And some would take each other out. Maybe Isaac's next battle would be the only other one he'd need to win. But finding the remaining contestants was no easy task, especially without help. And he'd need all the help he could get if he was going to break that record.

Isaac took a deep breath of sea air. There was still a major challenge ahead of him. Winning was in and of itself extremely difficult. But Isaac was aiming for that record, along with the sweet bonus that was added to the pension. That prize money would make this whole nightmare worth it. He'd have more money than the boy knew what to do with. If his parents' arguments had taught him anything, it was that money was the single most important object in the entire world. People with money could do anything they wanted. And Isaac wanted as much as he could claim. If that meant kicking it into high gear and killing the remaining contestants before the record, then the boy would comply.

_With that money…I could…_

He pushed that thought away. He didn't even want to admit what he had just considered. He focused his mind on the challenge of claiming victory. Whoever said that The Program was easy never had to participate. The boy was taking advantage of a quiet moment on the shore, but there was always a possibility of someone stalking him, preparing for a deadly pounce. No one understood the fear of The Program until they experienced it, and it never became any easier. Isaac continued to feel the exact same way as he did when he first entered the playing field. Sure, he was scared, but he had his eyes on the prize. He wanted to win, and planned to get there.

The boy's thoughts returned to the task at hand. There were other contestants out there, and if the numbers were still dropping, then some were playing, and playing hard. Isaac knew there were some dangerous players remaining. The numbers didn't dwindle by themselves – the dead were killed, and that meant that there were those remaining with plenty of experience at ending others. Some wouldn't go down without a fight.

A slight rustling reached Isaac's ears and his body tensed. He jumped up from the ground, his hand tightening around the machete. Upon spinning around he saw a dark object in front of his face. With a quick cry, he slashed the large blade downward, effectively cutting off a low hanging branch from the nearby forest border. He examined the branch and then slowly backed away from the concealing woods. If someone was in the area, they would have definitely heard his short outburst. And he was out in the open, with nothing to hide behind.

The boy listened intensely, stopping his breathing so that it would not interfere with his hearing. A sea breeze drifted from behind him and swept through the soft leaves. The sound made the boy feel even more uneasy, and he continued to move away from the foreboding trees. A sudden beeping frightened him and he cried out almost femininely when he discovered the sound had come from right on top of him.

Isaac spun the opposite direction, but his gaze only met the mirrored sky in the ocean before him. A confused look crossed his face as he turned back to the forest expecting to see an intruder, but again there was no one there. He slowly lowered the machete, and when Isaac heard the beeping again, he didn't spring into action. He gazed at his side and saw the faint glow of light coming from inside his duffel bag. He dropped it to the ground and scrambled through it, slowly clutching the neck collar device and holding it up to his face.

_It's working!_

His eyes flew over the cracked screen quickly taking in the several blinking dots that seemed scattered all over. His hands quickly began to sweat and his heart beat a little quicker as the anticipation raced through his system. His eyes widened in excitement. With this tool finally on his side, finding the remaining contestants would be simple! And sneaking up on them to take advantage of the first strike would all but hand him the victory.

The device flashed like it threatened to turn off, but it remained on. Isaac stared down at it, noticing that there were no other blinking dots near his current location. He finally allowed his body to relax, realizing that there was no immediate threat. The boy smiled for the first time in a while and quickly identified the nearest blinking speck. He then raced off in pursuit of setting a new record, and the cash flow that it brought.

* * *

The girl sighed with frustration. The dark looming forest spread out all around her, its dark shadows slowly trying to consume her completely. How could she be lost? There was no possible way that that could happen. She had been following the map, looking for a safe place to rest for a bit – how could she have lost her way in the forest area? It simply didn't add up. She stopped for a moment moving her duffel bag around to her front and reached inside to pull out the map and determine her location. Her hand scrambled around blindly inside the bag, but she felt nothing that resembled a map. With another sigh of frustration, she dropped the bag to the ground and began pulling out its contents until the duffel was empty. The map was not there.

A sense of panic washed over her for a second, but she pushed it away, instead recalling a perfect mental image of the map. There was no way to guess for sure where she was, but if she continued north a bit, then she'd most likely hit some kind of landmark which would help her immensely. The girl cautiously stumbled forward deeper into the forest, when her eyes stopped on an object in front of her. The object was a tree, but as the girl's eyes drifted over its features, something from inside her vast amount of knowledge sprang forward.

_That tree shouldn't be growing here._

The girl stared at it in confusion, running the facts through her mind. That tree needed constant heat, not to mention the aid of surrounding wildlife to spread its seeds. The climate didn't match the tree's needs, and so it was not possible for that plant to grow in the current setting. But there it was, standing in all its impossible glory.

She walked forward, putting a hand on the trunk, just to make sure the tree was real. It appeared to be completely solid, but something still didn't feel right. The girl slowly circled the tree, her hands tracing its bark as if looking for something. A subtle change in the tree's consistency caught the girl by surprise. A part of the bark seemed to be softer than the rest of the tree. She pushed on the soft spot and found that the tree gave way. With a few quick strikes with her tire iron, the bark fell away, revealing a passageway that appeared to extend deep under ground.

The girl wondered if she had happened to discover a secret entrance to The Program's secret weaponry base, and slowly she descended into the path that led into the earth. She slowly walked down the incline, suddenly aware that the stone had been carved to create a series of steps. A sudden putrid smell reached her nostrils as she went further, one that nearly made her vomit immediately upon impact. She held back her gags as she continued downward, suddenly aware that she wasn't descending any longer. She was walking parallel – she had finally reached the bottom. After walking a little further, a large object once again stood in her way. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness that swarmed around her, but light soon emerged from an unknown source to help her see. It appeared to be a door of some kind. The door was large and metal, either to prevent people from entering, or to stop those from leaving. Or maybe a little of both.

Her eyes drifted upwards to a small message written above the door. She read it out loud, "_Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate." _It took her a single moment to recognize where she had seen that phrase before.

_Abandon all hope, ye who enter here._

The famous words written over the gates of Hell. As soon as the words passed through her mind, the door slowly swung open. The girl's ears were instantly raped with the screams and moans of those persecuted inside hell. She dropped to the ground as she covered her ears to protect her eardrums from exploding. Slowly the screams softened to a dull roar and the girl could finally remove her hands from her ears. She glanced behind her at the path that had taken her to Hell, and then turned back venturing forth into the inferno.

The girl observed the first circle of limbo, where the indifferent where constantly stung by wasps and eaten from the inside out by maggots. She moved on quickly, watching the lustful being tossed about by the wind. The smell became overwhelming at one point, making her eyes water over before it died down. Some doomed souls reached out to her for help, but the girl knew that there was nothing she could do for them. They were destined to an eternity of agony, and not a single thing could be done to save them.

She continued onward to the third circle, watching as a massive amount of obese people lie flat in the mud. Many tried to stand up, but their bodies were pinned by the torrential downpour of rain and hail. The girl watched as the water seemed to appear from nowhere before plummeting to the mud, soaking the gluttonous people to the bone. A low growl from behind her made the girl jump and she spun around to be met with the stare of six eyes. The three-headed dog narrowed its eyes at her, and with a quick nod, the girl hurried off.

She continued onward, watching two groups of people push heavy weights into each other before being forced to start all over again. The girl continued forward to find herself standing on the edge of a very still river. The water did not flow in either direction, but instead remained dormant, without a single ripple moving the surface. She looked along the shore, but not seeing anything to help her across, so the girl extended a foot out. She slowly dropped her foot downward, only to see it stop once it reached the surface. She picked up the other and placed it down in the same fashion. The girl decided not to question why she could walk on this water and began her trek along the still river.

As she walked over the surface of the river, her eyes drifted downwards and the girl screamed when she saw people staring back up at her through the water. She gazed down and saw that they were all around her, bodies floating just beneath the surface. Bubbles slowly drifted out of their mouths, but the surface still didn't move when the gurgles broke through. They didn't thrash around either. Feeling uneasy, the girl continued on.

She was almost on the other side when yelling reached her ears. She turned and noticed that other people stood on the surface as well. They swung fists and clubs at one another, striking at everyone in sight. They screamed in rage as they tried to rip each other apart. The girl stood dumbfounded as their wounds healed almost as they were made, only to have more created in their place.

The girl walked a little further, trying to avoid any attention being drawn to her, when a voice cried out her name. The girl gasped as she spun around to see several people rushing at her. She attempted to run from them, but found that her feet seemed to be stuck in place. The girl looked down to see that a familiar looking face had grasped both of her feet. Corey (Boy #15) gurgled before releasing his grip. The girl stumbled back, just as her attackers were upon her.

"Do we look familiar to you, bitch?" Derek (Boy #2) hissed as he swung a fist at her face. The girl jumped back, swinging the tire iron at his face and knocking him back. The boy fell down as two more boys took his place. Ron (Boy #8) jumped up to kick her in the face while Mitchell (Boy #24) swung a club at her gut. The girl cried out and jumped to the side, avoiding both blows. Suddenly, a strike was driven to the back of her head, and the girl crumpled to the surface of the river.

"How do _you_ like it?" Minh (Boy #6) roared when she lifted her head, feeling a trickle of blood drip down the back of her neck. She instantly placed the tire iron back into her duffel bag, quickly grabbing the shotgun lying in it, and pulled it out reloading it as she went. A single shot took off Minh's head. She spun back around and took three more shots, blowing holes in the other boys trying to attack her. She watched as their wounds immediately began to regenerate, and the flesh started to grow where it had just been blown apart. The girl took the time to race off, finally reaching the other shore and leaving the attackers behind.

She gasped for breath for a moment, trying to calm herself down. The danger had passed, and so she wiped the blood from the back of her neck before continuing onward. She briskly walked past the tombs of fire, hearing the moans of those trapped inside. The punishments were steadily becoming worse and worse. There were those submerged in the river of boiling blood and those trapped in a fiery sandstorm with vicious snakes. She finally made it past the people being ripped apart by demons to the final circle of hell – the frozen center.

The girl watched as people desperately tried to free themselves from the ice, only furthering their torment. She heard familiar moans and she wandered off to one side, where the ice had risen to people's necks. People cried out in agony, but the girl paused when she heard her name again.

"Please, help me…" Nathan (Boy #19) freed an arm and held it out to the girl, only to have it freeze over and get tugged back down.

"But, why are you here?" the girl asked.

"We didn't play." Genevive (Girl #21) whispered weakly, "We're the traitors to our government. This is our punishment." The girl looked around, and saw more familiar faces. A roar from the center of the frozen pond echoed over the flat surface. The girl turned and saw a massive beast stuck in the ice. It beats its wings ferociously as it attempted to escape the ice. The girl moved a little closer, noticing that the monster had three vicious heads, and it had something in two of its mouths. The screams got louder as she approached, and the icy wind from the beating wings nearly knocked her over.

"No, honey! Stay away!" a woman screeched from the head on the left. The mouth bit down, piercing her body with razor sharp teeth. The girl's mouth dropped open as she stared up at the beast. Her wide eyes analyzed the woman being ripped apart by the massive teeth on the right head.

"Mom?"

"Don't come any closer! It's dangerous here!" a man cried out before his torso was punctured by a fang on the left head. The girl took a step backwards, feeling the horror fill her entire body. She watched as the two side heads mangled the two people inside their mouths.

"Dad?" the girl squeaked out.

"Danielle, stay away!" the man screamed.

"That's not my name!" the girl yelled, her voice echoing off the empty walls and the ice lake. The beast stopped, and the eyes from the middle head suddenly snapped open. The girl tried to scream, but found herself unable to do so.

"**At last…I no longer had to search for you…you…came to me…**"

A claw quickly appeared at her side, wrapping around the girl and lifting her high off the ground. She squirmed as much as she could, but the girl could not move in the beast's grasp. The shotgun was still clasped in her own fist, but she was still unable to fire it. The monster lifted the girl up to its middle face, grinning as it opened its claw, allowing the girl to stand up. With a cry, she raised the shotgun and fired the pellets directly into the beast's eye. It didn't even blink.

"**Feisty…until the very end…**"

The girl screamed as she was tossed forward, into the wide gaping mouth. She smelled the hot putrid breath as she rolled around in the burning saliva. She turned back and watched the row of fangs shut behind her.

* * *

Ariana (Girl #18) woke with a start. Her body was covered in a cold sweat and the shotgun was gripped tightly in both hands. Darkness surrounded her, and for a moment, the girl thought that she was still trapped the demon's mouth. But the air was fresh and soft. Ariana shivered once and let go of the powerful gun to rub her hands over her arms. The contact warmed her slightly and removed some goosebumps from her skin. The girl then flexed her hands slightly, realizing that they had cramped after clutching the gun so tightly.

The girl stood to shake the chills from her body. She walked around the empty room in a large circle, since she wasn't prepared to leave it just yet. Ariana wasn't tired any more, she was just worried that she would face an encounter upon leaving the empty house in which she currently resided, and that she would lose, since she had still not completely recovered from her nightmare.

_Tossed into the mouth of Satan? That's only reserved for the worst of traitors._

Slowly the adrenaline left her body. The only thing that continued to rattle her was the realism of the dream. She felt as though she had actually traveled through Hell, seeing everything as Dante had before her. But she had not expected to see her victims there. That had been an unexpected and unwanted surprise.

_It's been quite a while since I've had a nightmare._

Ariana took a long deep breath. She bent down and picked up the shotgun feeling its power once again racing through her body. She hadn't been asleep for very long, but she was feeling reenergized. The nightmare had frightened off any hint of fatigue still remaining in her body and the girl was ready to jump back into the game.

A single fleeting thought returned her to Hell, where her victims writhed in pain in Hell's flames. She stared at them as they called out to her, pleading for help.

"I hope you all burn." Ariana hissed before leaving the empty room behind her.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 43, 48, 50, 51, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 46

(7) Contestants remaining


	60. Betrayed

A pit formed inside Kara's (Girl #24) stomach. She reached into her duffel and pulled out the watch, noting that the time was fifteen minutes past ten. That meant that a new area had just become a danger zone. She pulled out the map and, using what little moonlight she could, clearly marked area 46 as the forbidden area. Kara remembered back to when the rules of The Program had been explained to her along with the rest of her class. She had been told that the areas that became forbidden were randomly assigned. But as she looked at the map, the girl determined that to be a complete lie.

Most of the danger zones were along the border, and if they weren't the border themselves, then they sanctioned off safe areas anyways. What had started as 16 areas of an urban setting was now down to three – the rest were either danger zones or separated from the rest of the playing field by the forbidden areas. There had been two suburban districts, one on the west side of the field in the woods and one on the east side. The west side was now completely off limits, making housing scarce. The few danger zones in the middle of the field almost created a circular path in the center. The students had been herded together since the very beginning, using the danger fields to decrease shelter and increase chance encounters. And now, it appeared that it was only a matter of time before the remaining contestants were picked off.

In all honesty, Kara wanted to risk another random encounter if it meant that she and her companion Molly (Girl #9) could find some shelter. Being out in the woods was dangerous. Ears picked up noises that weren't there and eyes detected movement when there was none. The forest kept contestants on edge, so that they could strike when someone wandered into their midst. Sure, looking for shelter in the few places it existed was dangerous, but was there an action in The Program that wasn't risky at all? The answer to that was no. But something else was keeping Kara in the forest, and the answer to that was Molly.

Kara gazed over at her friend, who appeared to be staring off into space. Kara wondered if Molly truly had any understanding of what was happening. The numbers were slowly dropping, and, as much as Kara hated to admit it, she was worried that Molly was eventually going to get them killed.

Kara knew that falling asleep against a window had been her fault. She had been too stubborn to move and as it turned out, when she woke up she was in the process of being attacked. The girl could not blame anyone else but herself. But something else was bothering her. Molly had woken up – Kara knew that because she had been awake for the announcements. Molly must have seen her friend asleep against the glass. Didn't it cross her mind to move Kara? After all, leaving the girl in plain sight was like hanging a sign out the window that read, "Come inside and kill us! Two for the price of one!" Kara wasn't placing any blame on Molly, but she was questioning whether the girl was competent. Anyone else would have sensed that danger, right?

If nothing else, the forest kept Molly still and quiet. And if the setting could continue to do that, then Kara wouldn't have to worry about the girl drawing unneeded attention. The fear and the anxiety was a small price to pay in order to remain alive. Kara wondered if Molly knew that that was the priority.

Molly could feel Kara's eyes boring into the side of her head. She casually turned towards Kara, only to see the girl turn away immediately. Molly sighed silently as she stared through the darkness at her friend. It was no longer a question of her imagination – Kara was definitely avoiding her. The only thing Molly could do was wonder why.

Was it because she was worried that Molly would attack? Even if Molly decided to play, the only weapon she possessed was a yo-yo, and she didn't expect that to do too much damage. Molly guessed that Kara was acting out some logical process inside her head. Talking would draw attention, or at least not be of use to surviving. It appeared that Kara was trapped in survival mode, and perhaps Molly had become expendable.

"Kara?" Molly whispered softly.

A few seconds passed before Kara replied with, "Hmm?" as her reply.

"Is there something we should be doing? Or maybe a place we should be going?" Molly asked, watching as her friend met her gaze.

"Why do you ask me?" Kara answered her question with another question.

"It seems like you have a better grip on the situation." Molly replied honestly, "I've been trying to make sense of everything that's been happening to us, and I think you do a better job than me."

"So, you expect me to save both of our lives?" Kara said a little more harshly than she meant.

"No, I didn't say that." Molly said frowning, "I'm aware of our condition."

"Our condition?" Kara repeated, "Molly, you and I are going to die. If by some miracle, it's the both of us against one other person, and we happen to take him or her down, then one of us gets to live. Otherwise, I don't see either one of us taking home the victory."

Silence settled over the two of them. Kara wished she hadn't been so inconsiderate, but she hoped that her words had reached Molly and forced her to recognize the situation they were in. It was all but hopeless, but if they kept surviving, then eventually it could be the two of them, and from there, one would survive, at least giving one of them the opportunity at life. Kara couldn't bring herself to ask for anything more than that.

"What is your problem?" Molly whispered a little too loudly.

"Be quiet!" Kara hissed back.

"Is surviving the only thing you can think about?" Molly continued, her voice rising slightly.

"In case you hadn't noticed, that seems to be the most important thing we should be considering!" Kara said, "Doesn't your life mean anything to you, or would you rather throw it away chatting for a few minutes before someone finds us and murders us?"

"I know we're going to die!" Molly cried out, her voice carrying for quite a ways. Not too far off, a boy pushed his way through the forest when the girl's voice entered his ears. He paused for a moment, registering the voice as familiar. And slowly inside his head, a face matched the voice he had heard.

_Molly's close by?_

He immediately changed direction, quickening his pace somewhat.

Kara's mouth dropped open at Molly's last outburst. The anger boiled inside her. Didn't she understand anything? Yelling and making noise brought attention – usually the wrong kind of attention. What if someone was close by and heard that yell? It wasn't safe to stay in that spot anymore. Kara quickly picked up her duffel bag and turned towards Molly, only to notice she had continued talking after screaming.

"…if he finds us? Don't you remember, Kara? We still have friends out there! I know I don't stand a chance at living, so I want to enjoy what time I have left with my friends – and that includes you! It's too late to go catch a movie or to play cards or anything like that. But I don't want it to end like this. I want us all together, so that I won't…die alone."

Kara looked at her friend and then spoke, "We can't stay here anymore. Someone could have heard you yelling."

"Did you listen to me at all?" Molly screamed, feeling the anger burn fiercely inside of her. Kara had never been this callous before. She'd had an edge to her sometimes, but the girl was always understanding when it came to her friends' feelings. Apparently, that part of Kara had died someone out in the playing field. Tears of fury and frustration formed in Molly's eyes and quickly slid down her cheeks.

Molly wasn't sure what to do. Logically, it made sense to stay with Kara. Alone, Molly had no food, no water, no compass or map, and a useless weapon. But she wondered if she could stay in Kara's presence any longer. The girl was cold and offered no support – emotional or physical. Molly thought that she would feel better in the presence of a friend, but that was no longer the case. Kara made her feel worse. The girl insinuated that Molly was mindless, incompetent, and worst of all, useless.

"I'm not going with you." Molly said, letting her legs collapse beneath her and crumpling to the ground.

"What do you mean?" Kara asked, completely shocked, "You don't have anything you need to survive. Even if no one found you here, eventually you'd die from a danger zone or something like that. Now stop being stupid and-"

"Maybe you didn't hear me." Molly glared at her friend, "But I said that I'm not staying with you anymore. You want to survive? Then go ahead. No one's stopping you."

"Molly, I can't just leave you here." Kara said, glancing around anxiously.

"Why not?" Molly said, "You left Justin (Boy #18) to die. Why not me too?"

Kara's eyes opened wide. Molly could see the hatred beginning to boil inside her, could sense the anger building in the girl in front of her. Maybe this was it – maybe Molly needed to make her mad before she could regain her empathy, or maybe, Kara was going to take the initiative and swing that bowling ball inside her duffel bag into the side of Molly's head. And keep swinging until Molly's head was no more.

Kara opened her mouth, preparing to scream as loud as she could, when suddenly she stopped. Her eyes picked up on it first, noticing that leaves were carefully being pushed aside from the corner of her eye. The emotional wound from Molly's hurtful comment created a tear in one of her eyes, and she blinked it away, feeling the panic slowly set in. Molly noticed that Kara was not responding, and slowly she became aware of the presence also. It felt like the world had entered slow motion. They could see him slowly emerging from the trees, but neither could bring themselves to look at him. It was like they both had decided that if neither looked at the intruder, then no one was actually there. But Molly couldn't be frozen in time forever. She needed to know who it was.

Slowly the girl turned her head, her eyes meeting his. She recognized his face and relief began to set in. Her gaze drifted downward to the T-shirt wrapped around his upper torso, revealing a rather sexy six pack she had never noticed before. She continued downward even farther, to the slightest of burns on his shins that would have looked a lot more damaging in the light. Molly had never been so relieved to see him in her life.

"Jeff (Boy #22)!" Molly cried out and jumped to her feet. Everything slowly began to return to normal for her as she raced over to give her friend a hug. But the world continued to move slowly for Kara, who was not looking at his face. She was watching his hands. In one hand, the boy held a handgun, and in the other, he held a curved sickle. Kara's thoughts immediately returned back to the classroom, where she had first heard the rules. She could almost hear Mr. Smith explaining it again. Weaponry was distributed randomly. There had been a lottery of names and weapons before the meeting in the classroom, and the name drawn was given the weapon drawn. So while the assignation of weapons was random, it was still premeditated in the sense that the government knew who had which weapon, but the contestants did not. Kara's thoughts recalled one more piece of information.

_No one is given two weapons._

Kara's breath caught in her throat. Her eyes darted back and forth between weapons, hoping that one was merely an illusion and then if she glanced away, one would disappear. But neither weapon vanished. Slowly Kara raised her eyes to the face of the friend she didn't understand anymore. Jeff stared back at her, not breaking his gaze for a moment. Molly had finally reached him and wrapped her arms around him happily, and still the boy didn't break his gaze away from Kara.

"No…" Kara tried to say, but only a whisper came out. More tears flooded her eyes as she watched Jeff wrap one arm around Molly – the arm holding the scythe. His other arm was raised up in a straight line, pointing the gun directly at Kara's chest. And suddenly, she was gone. The girl took off, leaving her friend behind in the arms of a murderer.

Molly's eyes flooded with tears of joy. Things wouldn't be so hard anymore. Jeff always knew the right thing to say – he'd be able to straighten Kara out. And with a boy in the group, the girls would finally have some much needed protection. The three of them would be able to find their last remaining friend in no time, and then the four of them would be together, enjoying what little time they had left.

The sound of two gunshots frightened her, especially since they sounded so close. The girl clutched tighter to Jeff, unaware that he was firing just past her shoulder at the spot Kara used to inhabit. The boy didn't hear any scream of pain, so he lowered his gun. Molly glanced around for the origin of the gunshots. Her eyes settled on the just visible feature on the boy's chest, just below the T-shirt wrapped around his torso.

"A scar?" she murmured

"Some scars are too well hidden to be seen." Jeff replied.

It wasn't until she felt the burning heat and the icy chill that she realized something was wrong. She pushed away from him and stared down at his hands, noticing the weapons he held from the very beginning. From the pale moonlight through the clouds, Molly could easily see the liquid dripping from the blade of the boy's scythe. She reached behind her and felt a new wet spot on her clothes. She pulled her hand back to view the sticky dark blood covering her palm.

Molly glanced up in disbelief, feeling the river of blood drip down the backs of her legs. She opened her mouth to ask him why, to plead him to stop, to say anything, when he quickly raised the semiautomatic, firing a bullet into each of her kneecaps. The girl screamed in agony as her legs gave way. Tears filled her eyes again, but they were not of joy this time.

"Please. Stop, Jeff." The girl whimpered. Again the gun was fired, this time the bullet racing through her shoulder. She screamed out in pain again. Despite the hurt that racked her body, the girl forced herself to sit up again. Molly watched as Jeff slipped the gun into the waist of his pants and flipped the scythe over to his right hand. He moved in closer, preparing to cut the girl into pieces and then allowing her to bleed to death.

"JEFF!" she screamed, "STOP!" The feeble attempt did nothing to halt the boy. "Why are you doing this? I'm your friend, Jeff!"

Immediately the boy froze, his face displaying the most amount of shock Molly had ever witnessed. She stared up at him as he loomed over her. But his eyes weren't focused on Molly anymore. His eyes seemed to be looking elsewhere, somewhere far away. To a place he never wanted to return.

* * *

It was a rare moment for Jeff. He was actually smiling. He walked down the side streets, actually exchanging smiles with random strangers, a practice the boy had never truly understood until that moment. People who had seen him walking to school day after day for four years were confused by the bright smile on his face. Some joked that he had finally lost his virginity, while others believed the brooding individual had finally snapped. But only a select few knew the real reason. It was his last day of middle school.

Jeff was excited that his time in middle school was finally over. High school was obviously next on the boy's schedule, and the particular one that he was attending was at least ten times the population of his middle school. He wouldn't be stuck with the same bastards year after year. He would finally be allowed some freedom to meet some new people and make some new friends. And the best part about it was that Dexter would be going with him. So that even if high school was a repetition of middle school, he'd still have one friend to rely on.

The boy knew something was wrong the minute he walked into the classroom. They had all been talking before he walked in, and now they were silent, everyone's attention on him as he entered the room. Jeff had anticipated a hard day since the students would most likely not get away with the torture they put him through in high school. He expected rubber bands shot at his eyes constantly and paper balls be tossed at his head. He expected many of his books to disappear, and his lunch as well. But he was not ready for silence, and it unsettled him.

The boy ignored the stares as he slowly made his way to his seat, but stopped, when a voice called out his name. The boy spun back to see Johnny, the ringleader of Jeff's anguish standing in front of the class.

"Hey Jeff," he sneered, "Who do I remind you of?" The boy raised both arms over his head and trying to stand on his toes. He then proceeded to attempt a graceful jump before squatting down and up again. The boy was clearly mocking ballet, but Jeff didn't see what that had to do with him.

"I don't know." Jeff murmured before continuing the seemingly endless path to his desk.

"Oh, I know!" Johnny cried out in glee, "How about we fight some terrorists instead, like those Patriot Rangers!"

Jeff froze in place. He turned slightly to see Johnny throw some fake punches in the air before rolling on the ground and jumping back up, yelling out karate cries as he went. Jeff could only watch in horror as the boy continued the mockery, suddenly feeling a twinge in the center of his torso.

_There's no way he could know…_

"What's the matter faggot?" Johnny hissed when he finally stopped, "Forgot all your moves already? I thought you were a fan of this shit."

The class erupted in laughter, all except two. Jeff gazed over at the only other person not laughing – his friend Dexter. Their insults didn't faze him, and he didn't pay attention as many other students stood up and pretended to fight imaginary foes. He even walked past the girls who challenged him to a dance contest before giggling hysterically. He stopped by the side of Dexter's desk, staring down at him.

"Jeff-"the boy began.

"How could you tell them?" Jeff muttered, "I asked you not to tell anyone."

"It was an accident, Jeff." Dexter said hurriedly.

"I told you a secret in confidence, and you told them all." Jeff said, his eyes becoming harder.

"I'm sorry!" Dexter cried over the jeers and laughter, "We all were chatting about shows we were watching as kids and-"

"And you thought it would be a good idea to bring up MY stories?" Jeff hissed.

"I didn't mean for this to happen." Dexter said, his eyes falling to the desktop before him.

"No," Jeff replied coldly, "You thought that they would accept you if you sold me out."

The pain inside the boy's chest returned with a vengeance. The loneliness and the rejection welled inside him, burning inside his chest. It felt like it was eating away at him from the inside, and he clutched his fists to bear the weight on his shoulders. Tears slowly formed in the boy's eyes. The loss of a friend mixed with the frustration of an abandoned individual was almost too much for the boy to experience. He felt his body slowly begin to break down.

"Hey, look everyone!" Johnny said appearing at Jeff's side, "The homo's crying!"

Jeff gazed over at the face close to his, seeing the evil existing inside Johnny's eyes. Johnny stared back, a wide smile covering his face. Jeff could see it now – the boy received a vast amount of joy from Jeff's pain. They all did. They all thrived from his hurt. They had done everything in their power to destroy him. And Dexter was the worst one. He had pretended to care. He had LIED.

"What's the matter, fag?" Johnny said, "Can't take it?"

_He doesn't know what it means to feel pain._

In an instant, Jeff reached up, closing off Johnny's windpipe. The boy was caught by surprise and struggled for a moment before Jeff smacked the boy in the stomach. Johnny doubled over and Jeff quickly grasped a free arm, twisting it around until he heard it snap, followed by a squeal from his target. He kicked the boy into several desks (some still inhabited) and then watched him crumple to the floor.

"Cheap shot!" another boy cried out, swinging a punch at Jeff's face. The boy bent backwards, placing his hands on the ground before swing his legs up behind him, connecting with the attacker's chin. Jeff stood, watching the blood pour from the boy's mouth, most likely from biting his tongue or losing a tooth, before striking a kick upwards into the boy's groin.

The acts of violence did nothing to soothe Jeff, and the pain in his chest burned fiercely. A sick feeling rose in his stomach like he was about to vomit, but he pushed it away. He didn't want to throw up – that would only make him feel worse. He wanted the pain to go away, but it remained, continuously reminding him of the betrayal.

"Jeff," Dexter said, suddenly appearing at the boys' side. He placed a hand on Jeff's shoulder, only to have Jeff wheel to the side, connecting a powerful punch to Dexter's nose.

"YOU BETRAYED ME!" Jeff screamed before the sick feeling rose again and he gagged, the tears rushing to his eyes.

"No!" Dexter called out, "I'm your friend, Jeff!"

The boy couldn't take it any longer. He raced out of the classroom and out of the school. He ran as fast as he could down the streets, finding his way home through blinding tears and episodes of dry heaving. He stumbled into the kitchen, doubled over as the burning continued in his chest.

"STOP IT!" the boy screeched as he tore off his shirt, "STOP THE PAIN!" He tore at the spot with his fingernails, feeling absolutely no relief. He gazed over at the kitchen counter, at the spot where his mother had chopped up her salad for lunch before heading off to work. He gazed at the blade, left sitting on the kitchen counter. Jeff stumbled over to it, gripping the handle and raising it high above his head.

_STOP THE HURT! STOP THE PAIN!_

The plunged the knife down into his chest, screaming inhumanely as he did so. He slid the knife out, only to shove it back in. Blood sprouted out of him like a fountain as Jeff repeatedly stabbed himself with the kitchen blade. Pieces of flesh fell from his body, and soon, the boy stood in a circular puddle of his blood. He toppled to the floor, watching the world disappear before his eyes. His body had become cold, but the burning was ever present, cutting him deeper than any knife could.

And in his numb state, he could hear the door opening and shut as his mother reentered the house, most likely forgetting some important documents or something of the like. He heard her move into the kitchen, and he heard her scream. He watched her rush to the phone and begin speaking on it, before everything went black.

* * *

_I'm your friend, Jeff._

The boy stared down coldly at the girl before him. He blinked for a moment, and suddenly she was gone. In her place was a whimpering young teenage boy. His eyes were open wide with fear as he reached up to Jeff. But the boy stared down at Dexter with unforgiving eyes.

"I don't have any friends." Jeff hissed with hatred as he swung the scythe down into the top of Molly's forehead. The girl jolted and she opened her mouth to scream. Jeff pulled the scythe out and swiveled it around in his hand, swinging the blade upwards this time through the bottom of Molly's chin. Jeff slid the blade out and watched the blood gather inside Molly's head. She'd most likely choke on the gathering blood before she bled to death.

Jeff turned away from the dying girl, swiping his sickle at the air to remove excess blood. A hand rose up to his scar, feeling the burn within his chest. The pain never truly went away, but there was more now. He could still feel the knife too, repeatedly cutting away at him with its sharp edge. He'd learned to live it, letting it eat away at him slowly rather than to consume him completely. He'd make them all feel his pain. And once they knew what it was like to wish for death rather than suffer constantly in life, he would allow them to die. Only then would he know they had felt what he had: rejection, betrayal, and pain.

Jeff turned back at his dying friend, watching as she slowly turned her head and weakly raised an arm at him. Tears fell from her eyes like waterfalls, but it did nothing to keep her alive. She moved her mouth like she wanted to say, "Help me."

Jeff turned away as her arm collapsed to the ground, lifeless. "It's your own damn fault." he murmured. Suddenly the boy took off in the same direction Kara had gone, leaving Molly to die the way she had not wanted - alone. As he pushed trees and bushes away, a single thought raced around inside his mind.

_There are still more that must suffer._

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 43, 46, 48, 50, 51, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: none

(6) Contestants remaining


	61. Official Update part 2

_(Broadcasted from every news station in America)_

The Program Official Update!

Hello again, The Program faithful! It sure has been a wild ride, hasn't it folks? 48 hours have passed and of the fifty original students, only six remain! That's right everyone, the endgame has begun! Now, we know all of you have been doing your best at keeping track of who is where, what they are carrying, and who they are looking for. Don't worry if you got lost along the way, that's what we're here for. If you remember last time, a full survey of every contestant was given, noting which contestants were still shooting for victory and which were pushing up daisies. Due to a dwindling contestant pool, we will only be analyzing the living contestants. They are the only six that matter, ladies and gentlemen, since they are the only ones that remain. Without any further ado, here are our contestants:

Boy #22 – Jeff

Weapons: semiautomatic hand gun and ammo, can of eye mace, hand scythe, switchblade

Condition: few minor injuries, a shallow stab wound to the upper shoulder blade, firmly wrapped up by T-shirt

Alliances: none

Playing: yes

Analysis: This boy is armed to the teeth and ready to battle. He has not yet met an adversary he cannot kill, with the possible exception of Boy #23, since Jeff ran away in their sole encounter. It appears that nothing and no one can stop this boy from taking the victory. However, his apathetic face hides an inner torment, and it is this conflict that may prove to be his downfall.

Probability of Winning: 48/100

* * *

Girl #18 – Ariana

Weapons: ice pick, tire iron, dagger, bike chain, shotgun and ammo

Condition: fractured left forearm that doesn't seem to be affecting the contestant, few bumps and bruises, very slight concussion from bowling ball to the head

Alliances: none

Playing: yes

Analysis: The subject exhibits the highest intellect of the current contestant pool. She appears to be using every advantage possible at claiming victory, from seducing other contestants and gaining their trust to simply shooting them on sight. This beauty is both smart and dangerous, making her a solid bet for the victory. Despite the current acquisition of a shotgun, this girl exhibits weak fighting techniques and very little athleticism. In a fair fight, this girl will lose. However, the subject does everything in her power to tip the statistics in her favor.

Probability of Winning: 21/100

* * *

Boy #16 – Isaac

Weapons: neck collar detector, 2 grenades, machete

Condition: several fingers chopped off – hand professionally wrapped to minimize blood loss, miscellaneous small battle wounds

Alliances: none

Playing: yes

Analysis: This boy exhibits a strong desire to win, and has the tools to do so. With the collar detector on his side, he will undoubtedly find other contestants faster (assuming he can determine which dots on the screen are corpses and which are living contestants). The wound to his hand doesn't seem to be slowing him down to any strong degree; however it cannot be determined how strong his fighting style will be against a more seasoned fighter (Boy #22, Boy #23, Girl #25). Assuming this boy can use the detector to his advantage, he can effectively surprise any other contestant with a surprise attack and eventually claim the victory. In a fair fight against some other remaining contestants, it cannot be determined who will win.

Probability of Winning: 17/100

* * *

Girl #25 – Leslie

Weapons: rope, hunting knife, hammer, bulletproof vest

Condition: wounds from nail gun to back of hand and upper thigh, neither seem to be effecting subject too greatly

Alliances: none

Playing: defensively

Analysis: Several times in the course of this season, this girl has gone and surprised us all. It was anticipated that she go for the win from the start, but instead avoided conflict at all costs. Then the girl murders two other contestants in a fit of rage. We have all seen what she is capable of, but will it be enough to claim victory? It can be assumed that she will fight when given the opportunity, but will the recent loss of her companion make her a contender for the victory, or the next victim on the list? She's got the skills, let's see if she can back it up.

Probability of Winning: 10/100

* * *

Girl #24 – Kara

Weapons: bowling ball

Condition: appears to be unharmed

Alliances: Boy #23 – not present

Playing: no

Analysis: This girl seems to be the luckiest of the bunch. There appears to be no reason why she is still alive, except for her ability to run off while a threat disposes of a friend. Should this girl find Boy #23, then this tactic may work one more time. Assuming she finds him, there is a chance that he will protect her at all costs, only to sacrifice himself in the end. This appears to be the only scenario in which this girl can win. All other situations include her biting the big one. In other words, a long shot.

Probability of Winning: 3/100

* * *

Boy #23 – Bruce

Weapons: kitchen knife, katana

Condition: slight damage to neck from attempted hanging, deep wound to palm

Alliances: Girl #24 – not present

Playing: no

Analysis: This boy, despite his formidable fighting skills, exhibits no chance of claiming victory. His self-sacrificing nature and inability to eliminate other contestants make him a walking target. Upon meeting a contestant looking to win, the subject will either strip them of their weaponry before leaving them alone or will be eliminated. Even if his remaining friends are eliminated from the game, it does not appear he will have the drive to fight for the win, instead sinking into a depression, mourning the loss of those he could not protect. It's only a matter of time before this one kicks the bucket. In other words, a sucker's bet.

Probability of Winning: 1/100

And there we have it folks – the six remaining contestants of this season's The Program. What will happen in the next episode? Your guess is as good as ours. The Program is known for its unpredictability. And don't forget, with the completion of the second day, the record is a mere hour, 37 minutes, and 43 seconds away! Who will win? Will we have a new record on our hands? Can anyone eliminate the unstoppable Boy #22? All of these questions and more are just waiting to be answered in the coming episodes of THE PROGRAM!

For you fans out there: as you know, betting is officially complete when only ten contestants remain, however, if contestant merchandise is what you seek, then run on down to…

_(Broadcast ended)_

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26, 28, 31, 32, 34, 41, 43, 46, 48, 50, 51, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: none

(6) Contestants remaining


	62. Announcements part 8

The loudspeaker was about to spring to life any second, but Isaac (Boy #16) refused to stop to listen to it. There was someone nearby, and he would take advantage of the opportunity. For the past hour or so, the boy had traversed all over the playing field, following the blinking dots on the screen in front of him. But every time he approached one of the contestants, Isaac would stumble onto a corpse or two. The stupid device only picked up collar frequencies, but it didn't mention who was still a threat and who was already dead.

But he was sure of it now. He'd watch this dot move. He had thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when he first saw the dot slowly sliding across the cracked screen in front of his face, but Isaac had followed it out of curiosity, and he was about to be rewarded. No other dots had approached this one, so he knew it had not died on him. But the dot had stopped moving, and that made sense since the announcements were only moments away. A part of Isaac wanted to wait until the announcements were over as well, but his determination pushed him forward. No one would be expecting an attack during a set of announcements, and after eliminating them, he would listen to the rest of the information before continuing onward.

Isaac wanted that new record. And just as Mr. Smith began to speak, Isaac's eyes settled on his new opponent, only to realize that it was someone who he had faced in battle before this moment. He would not underestimate them again.

* * *

Bruce's (Boy #23) breath caught in his throat as the loudspeaker sprang to life. At first, he wasn't sure what was happening, but after pulling out his watch and finding a small patch of moonlight shining from behind an opening in the clouds, he gazed at the time in wonder.

_Two days are over already?_

A soft noise from nearby made the boy freeze. He gripped the katana tight in his hand, glancing around him for a source. Not seeing anyone, the boy pulled his map out from his duffel bag and took a seat on the ground beneath him. He recalled that ten had been alive in the last set of announcements, and he wondered how many were still breathing.

_Are my friends still alive?_

* * *

"_It's the witching hour little warriors! Two days have been completed and documented. I am sorry to say that there has yet to be a winner named in this competition, but never fear, contestants. A new record isn't everything – what matters is that we have a winner. The record is a little less than two hours away, for those of you keeping track. I am not very confident in this one being broken, since it appears that you people insist on drawing this game out as long as you can. In the last six hours, only four have been eliminated, which means that there are only six of you left."_

* * *

Leslie (Girl #25) listened intently as Mr. Smith wore on. This was his eighth set of announcements, and the man still found things to ramble on about. The girl was almost positive that the man loved to hear himself talk. So far the only information he had actually mentioned was that the second day was over, that the record was approaching fast, and that four people had died. That wasn't exactly a treasure trove of information to hand out. The girl decided she would need to be patient. There was no rush.

A soft thud made the girl jump. She spun around, glancing around for what could have made the noise but didn't see anything. Feeling uneasy of the imposing darkness, the girl shuffled her feet slightly off to the side. Leslie almost let out a cry of surprise when her foot kicked up against an object. She quickly knelt down and grabbed it, feeling the cold metal inside her hand. The girl's eyes widened considerably as she quickly launched the orb airborne, just in time for the grenade to detonate, filling the sky with a flash.

The moment of light was enough for Leslie to notice the boy hiding just off to her side as the force finally pushed her off her feet. A buzzing echoed inside the girl's head, like a telephone ringing through a layer of wool. She quickly tried to stand, only to feel immediately dizzy and crumple back to the ground. Leslie lifted her head to the swirling world and made eye contact with Isaac from his position nearly twenty feet away.

The boy couldn't waste any more time. His final grenade would not finish the job, since the girl had spotted him and would most likely throw the explosive back at him before its detonation. He needed to finish her while she was on the ground and vulnerable. She was the better fighter, but he had damaged her, and that would give him victory.

Mr. Smith continued as the battle raged on…

* * *

"_I suppose I shouldn't waste any more time, should I contestants? It's time to announce the four students who no longer pose any form of threat. The first was Boy #20 – Matt, and let me tell you, little warriors, this boy truly understood The Program to be a game. However, it isn't always the hero that survives this game. The next name on my list is Boy #6 – Minh. Once again, we see that a powerful weapon in the hands of a weak person makes them a major target. This one lasted longer than I had anticipated, and for a while there, even stood a chance at winning The Program. Maybe now the boy's weapon is in more…capable hands."_

* * *

Leslie cursed her ringing ears as she forced herself upwards, lifting her head to see the machete quickly bearing itself down to her face. She jumped back, only slightly recognizing the voice of Mr. Smith among the noise running around inside her head. The girl was still completely off balance and could do nothing against Isaac's mad swipes. It was all she could manage to dodge the attacks completely.

Ducking down, Leslie attempted to sweep the legs out from the boy in front of her, but Isaac noticed this and jumped over her leg, swinging out a leg of his own that connected with Leslie's torso. She fell to the ground and then quickly rolled to the side, sensing the danger. The machete was buried into the ground, slicing off some of Leslie's hair. The girl swung up another kick that missed Isaac but managed to push him away from her for the moment.

Leslie jumped up to her feet, feeling the lightheadedness slowly leaving her. With a seemingly swift motion, the girl reached back and pulled the hunting knife from her pocket, while her other hand gripped the hammer dangling from her belt loop. The girl suddenly possessed a weapon in each hand, and stood facing her attacker. Her hearing had returned somewhat, and she could only barely make out the words as Mr. Smith continued.

* * *

"_Moving on, we have yet another gentleman on my list, Boy #4 – Connor. Considering this boy's designated weapon was a bottle of laundry detergent, I applaud his survival technique. He quickly found a powerful ally and stood by them for a good majority of the game. However, the boy's demise was a painfully slow process, since he was shot with three different guns at three different times. For a little while, we were wondering if the boy would be named the victor for his sheer will for living. Still, his death was of no big loss to any of you remaining."_

* * *

Leslie grit her teeth as the blood flowing through her veins quickly began to boil. Hearing Mr. Smith talk about Connor like that enraged her, like he had only been a number. Boy #4 had not been his name. It was Connor. And his death had been a loss to Leslie. He had been of importance to her.

She made the first move. The girl rushed forward, swinging down with the hammer aiming instead at the machete instead of the boy's head. Isaac anticipated an attack at him, and was not prepared when the hammer struck the broad side of his large blade. The reverberation of the strike warbled through the weapon and into Isaac's only good hand. His grip loosened slightly so that he almost dropped the weapon, but he fought through the vibration and was able to jump back with the machete still in his grasp.

Leslie continued her attack, striking out with the hunting knife but missing Isaac's body. He swung down with the machete, but Leslie blocked with the hammer, absorbing the blow and knocking it to the side. This left Isaac wide open, and while the girl recognized that it was the perfect time to strike with the knife, she kicked him away instead before putting some distance between the two people.

Mr. Smith continued his speech.

* * *

"_The final name on the list is the only female to die in the last six hours. And that would be Girl #9 – Molly. Surprisingly enough, this girl rushed right into the waiting arms of her killer. Guess some contestants still don't understand the rules of The Program. Kill or be killed, there is no alternative. In any event, it's finally time to move onto the danger zones. My superiors suggested doubling the amount of danger zones during this time to stimulate some of you into finishing this game quickly. However, I feel that you are all capable of doing that on your own. So, only three new danger zones during this set of announcements. But mark my words - if there are no deaths in the next six hours, then you will have plenty to worry about. The zone that will become active immediately will be area 29."_

* * *

Leslie took a moment to think. Was she in area 29? She watched Isaac slowly rise to his feet and her mind desperately attempted to discover the answer before she was forced into battle again. Her thoughts raced back to the classroom, when she recalled Mr. Smith mentioning that the school would always be a danger zone, and it was conveniently placed in the exact center of the playing field – area 28. The next area directly east of that block was the new forbidden area. If Leslie remembered right, she was not in that area. She breathed a sigh of relief, just as her recovering ears picked up a new sound.

Isaac chuckled from where he stood a few feet away. The noise unsettled Leslie very deeply, but she refused to let fear grab a hold of her. She stood her ground, digging her feet in the dirt slightly for added push or added support. The boy's laughter steadily grew louder as Mr. Smith finally finished his set of announcements.

* * *

"_At two this morning, area 39 becomes forbidden. And two hours later, area 54 is the newest danger zone. Once again, contestants, I will return six hours from now to inform you what has occurred in this lapse of time. Here's to hoping we have a winner before I have to make another report. Happy hunting!"_

* * *

Isaac suddenly cut his laughing as he stared over at his intended victim. "You had the chance to end me right there." He said, pointing the machete directly at her, "I saw that open shot. I could have dodged it maybe, but that would have probably made you the winner of this fight."

Leslie dug her feet into the ground a little more. She knew that she had not struck when she should have, but if this boy was insinuating that stabbing someone was easy to do, then he was greatly mistaken. She gritted her teeth with determination and prepared to rush forward again. Talking was his way of trying to distract her, but she could see through his trick, slowly making his way closer to her. He would not get the jump on her again. She was the better fighter, and she would prove it.

"Still deciding not to play, huh bitch?" Isaac glared with a surprisingly gleeful expression on his face, "Well, I don't plan to walk away this time. If you won't make the final strike, then that means that I will. I've already won this fight!"

Leslie raced forward with shocking speed. Isaac stumbled back in surprise as Leslie swung the hammer upwards connecting with the boy's chin and sending him backwards. A tiny stream of blood trickled out from his mouth, but he paid it no heed as he swiped forward at Leslie's advance. She stopped just in time, stepping back and placing a little more space between the two fighters.

"This battle's not over yet." She hissed.

* * *

Bruce was feeling numb. It had started in his neck and slowly worked its way through his entire body. He could no longer feel the katana in his hand. He couldn't feel the kitchen knife pressed up against his body from his back pocket. He couldn't feel the ground beneath him.

_Molly's dead._

It couldn't be true. He'd be looking for so long, searching so hard, another one of his friends couldn't be dead. He'd started with six friends, and he was down to two. He'd been unable to find them, unable to protect them. Slowly they'd died, and now two remained. One was helpless, and one was a killer.

Bruce thought back to the announcements, recalling that Molly had…rushed into the arms of her killer? Bruce immediately knew what had happened. Molly had found Jeff (Boy #22), and he had murdered her. Bruce understood now that Jeff was playing to win, and nothing would stop him. Not logic, not his friends, nothing. Bruce slowly raised his face upwards to the sky above him.

_Mother, I'm trying to protect them, but it's so tough._

* * *

The boy didn't want to let go of his mother, and she didn't push him away. He loved hugging her, feeling her presence all around him. There was a definite aura around the woman that she emanated from her body. Bruce never felt safer than when his mother was close by. He could feel her protection enveloping him, like it was an actual presence.

Eventually the boy let go and sat back, staring at his mother as she seemed to deflate into the hospital bed. It still appeared that she was in a significant amount of pain, but her face expressed a warm and gentle smile. Bruce smiled back and a silence settled over the two of them.

"You're graduating middle school soon, aren't you?" the woman spoke softly. Bruce nodded in response, thinking about the friends he'd left in school that day. His father had picked him up in the middle of the day, and Bruce understood that that was a bad sign. His mother had had another episode, and she wouldn't be going back home any time soon. The doctors kept her in the hospital for observation, just in case.

"You're getting so big." Bruce's mother muttered with the slightest hint of pain, "I remember when you were just a little boy, just starting the first grade. What happened to all that time in between?"

"I don't know." was all the boy could say. He turned his head slightly and through the glass saw his father speaking with a few of the doctors outside the closed door. Whatever what was being said, it wasn't to the man's liking. Bruce wondered why his father was getting upset, since Bruce doubted he actually cared about his wife. Everyone knew there was another woman…

Silence resumed, and Bruce could feel the sadness welling inside him. He hated to see his mother in her current condition. His mother had always been so strong, radiating confidence and security to everyone she loved, supporting them to success and catching them when they failed. Seeing her in such a weakened state broke the young boy's heart, and before he even knew it, tears were coursing down his face.

"Honey, don't cry over me." his mother whispered, forcing a smile on her face, "I'm going to be up and ready to go in no time at all." But Bruce could see the tears in her eyes as well. He wondered who she was trying to convince.

"Mother, I don't want you to go…" Bruce squeaked out, wiping the tears from his eyes only to have more form.

"It's because you feel safe around me, right Bruce?" the boy cringed slightly when she spoke his name because he could hear the toll it took on her. But he slowly nodded his head and let the silence wash over him.

"I used to feel the same way about my mother." The woman spoke, "Do you remember your grandmother? She died a little after you were born, so I didn't expect you to. But I loved being around her. She had a way of…empowering me. She'd never tell me what to do, but instead gave me the confidence to do the things I knew were right. I was devastated when she died."

Bruce choked out a sob when his mother said that last word. She leaned forward and placed a hand against his cheek. "You have that same protection inside you, Bruce." The boy took a long calming breath and lifted up to meet his mother's gaze. "I've seen it in you. What you feel about me, others feel about you. You have the same presence as me. They feel safe around you."

"They do?"

"I know it's going to be tough for you, Bruce. But my gift to you was that presence you possess, and that will drive you forward into manhood. Your father…will need to experience the protection you have once I'm gone."

The boy's tears slowly dried. He wiped them away and they didn't return. His mother leaned back in her bed with a triumphant smile on her face. Bruce slowly felt himself smiling as well for the first time that day.

"Remember, Bruce," his mother said with surprising energy, "You have the ability to protect the ones you love. Never let anyone get in the way of that."

* * *

Isaac roared with fury as he rushed forward, his machete pointed straight ahead at Leslie. She dodged toward his weak side and raised the hammer to break the boy's bad arm in half. Instead, Isaac swung his arm out and connected with Leslie's throat. Pain shot through to his bandaged hand but he pushed it away, advancing at the girl again. She coughed once but was still able to dodge the swipes from the large blade as it careened toward her face and neck. The girl tried a desperate attack of her own that managed to throw Isaac off guard. She spun around instantly, gaining momentum, and driving that power into a strong roundhouse kick that sent the boy immediately to the ground. He gazed up in time to see the hammer being driven straight towards his face. With a small gasp, Isaac rolled to the side as the hammer was buried where his head had been.

_This bitch isn't fucking around. If this goes on longer, she'll get more desperate. I need to end this now._

Isaac ran forward and swiped his machete down as hard as he could. Leslie sensed the power behind the attack and quickly crossed both of her weapons to block it. Isaac immediately used his bandaged free hand to drive a punch into the girl's gut. He had expected the attack to hurt him immensely, but he'd expected the girl to fall from such a well placed punch, making her completely vulnerable to a final attack. His hand met with more resistance than he anticipated, and his cry of pain echoed loudly. Leslie hadn't been fazed at all, launching a knee up into the boy's groin. He tried to cry out again, but his voice wouldn't respond.

Isaac weakly dropped to one knee, feeling a sick sensation in his stomach. He stared up as Leslie quickly flipped the hunting knife around in one hand and jabbed it downward at his forehead. His eyes widened in fear as the impending doom raced at his face full force. Suddenly, something inside the boy snapped. He stared up at her in a fit of rage, quickly extending his damaged hand in the path of the knife, stopping it dead. He didn't even scream when the blade sliced through his hand.

With a cry of fury, the boy jumped up, ignoring the numbing pain racing through his body. He swiftly returned a kick to the girl's stomach that knocked her away, pulling the knife out of his hand as she went. Leslie tumbled to the ground to see Isaac quickly lumber over to her. She landed a kick to the boy's chest before he could strike at her susceptible body. The boy stumbled back only slightly before rushing at her again.

"YOU WON'T TAKE MY PRIZE MONEY!" he roared, swiping at her madly.

_Is money the only thing he's worried about?_

The boy struck fast and struck hard. Leslie only barely managed to avoid the sharp blade many times, and the sole time she attempted to block, the hammer was knocked out of her hand, as the swipe continued. The blade missed her body by inches as she jumped off to the side, gripping the hammer once again in her left hand.

_Where did he get all this power from?_

Isaac pushed forward, continuing his onslaught. He swiped sideways, trying to sever the girl's head from her shoulders. Leslie ducked low and rolled away, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

"That money is mine!" Isaac yelled, "That record is mine! You can't have it!"

_With that money, Mom and Dad won't argue anymore. Dad can have as much as he wants and Mom can pay the bills with ease. I can bring Dad back if I get that money!_

"I WON'T LET YOU TAKE MY FATHER AWAY FROM ME!"

"What?" Leslie gasped, lowering her guard for a single moment. That was all the time Isaac needed. He slashed down at her defenseless figure. Leslie's training instinctively took over and she attempted to move to the side. She didn't dodge in enough time, the blade of the machete sinking deep into the flesh and muscle in her left arm and cutting the chuck of organic material clean off her body.

The girl screamed inhumanely as the flesh was cut cleanly from her limb. The blood flew freely, soaking her entire arm in the liquid immediately after the wound was created. The beast roared to life inside of her, and she impulsively tried to suppress it. She couldn't lose herself to her anger at that moment. She could win, but at what cost? Leslie needed to keep control if she was going to avoid further injury.

The girl's left arm hung limply at her side as she watched Isaac swing his machete back and prepared to cleave her face in two. However, as she continued to gaze at her attacker, she watched him slow down further and further until it appeared that Isaac had stopped completely. Leslie gazed in shock as the world stopped revolving beneath her feet.

"_Didn't you listen to anything I told you?"_

"Connor?" Leslie's mouth dropped open as she squeaked out the single name. She turned in both directions, but she couldn't see him. "Connor, where are you?"

"_Leslie, it doesn't matter where I am. What matters is that blade in front of you."_

Leslie returned her gaze to the statue of Isaac and saw a little amount of moonlight reflect off the tainted metal of the machete.

"_Strong people don't push away sadness and happiness or even anger."_

Leslie felt the beast inside her once again. It pushed at her, forcing her towards the boy in front of her. Her damaged left arm sent a signal to her left hand and forced it to tighten around the weapon it held.

"_Strong people use their emotions to push them onward when we don't feel we can!"_

In an instant, time resumed and Isaac smiled in triumph as the machete rushed towards Leslie's face. His face contorted in shock when he watched the blade stop millimeters away from her nose. She stared deep into his eyes as they slowly possessed more and more fear. Isaac's eyes dipped low for a moment and they took in the full image of what had happened. The machete blade was nestled between the two claws of the tail on the opposite side of the hammer. She'd stopped it just in time.

Leslie felt the rage fill her entire body as she stared into the face of her attacker. He was no monster. He was a boy. A little boy who wanted his daddy. A confused little boy who thought that money would bring him everything he had wanted, everything he had lost. The righteous fury swept into her bleeding arm. It was time to end this fight.

Leslie swiftly lashed up with her free hand holding the hunting knife, burying the blade deep into the boy's throat. He gurgled softly as his grip on the machete lessened. Leslie released the knife and simultaneously twisted the handle of the hammer. The twist spun the blade of the machete, which wrenched it free of the boy's hand. Leslie gripped the now free handle before it tumbled to the ground. Isaac stumbled backwards, the knife still protruding out of his neck. The anger rushed into the arm holding the machete, filling Leslie with unseen power. She swung horizontally upwards, sinking the blade into the side of Isaac's head around the ear and continuing up to the sky, slicing a portion of the boy's head from the rest of his body.

The girl stood completely erect as the body crumpled to her feet. The piece of scalp dropped to the ground after the body did, landing a few feet away. The rage surged through Leslie's body once again, filling her with vigor. And the beast roared its victory through the girl's mouth – the girl's cry of triumph falling on deaf ears.

Slowly, the beast inside the girl's soul returned to its slumber. Leslie removed her shirt so that she only wore the bulletproof vest and wrapped the article of clothing around her arm that was still bleeding profusely. She bent down and pulled the hunting knife from the corpse's neck and wiped it on what had been Isaac's shirt before sliding it back into her pocket. She made her way to where she had first spotted the boy and easily found his duffel bag. She opened it up and found a grenade like the one he had first tried to use on her. Leslie was about to leave the rest when a beeping caused her to stop. She knelt down one more time, picking up a small technological device.

_This seems helpful._

* * *

_Mother, you were wrong. I can't protect them._

Bruce sighed, feeling utterly defeated. He'd tried to find them since the very beginning of the game but he'd failed completely. He hadn't found any of them, and now they were almost all dead. Bruce had tried to move as fast as he could, tried to go where they could be hiding, but they were never there. They were always somewhere else, being hacked apart or shot or maybe something even worse.

But Kara (Girl #24) was still out there somewhere. Bruce couldn't get distracted anymore. He couldn't keep wallowing in depression or stopping because of self-doubt. There wouldn't be any more stops for rest, and no more lunch breaks. He would not stop until she was found. If Jeff was truly a lost cause, then Kara was all Bruce had left. She was the only family he had remaining. He needed to find her!

Feeling the panic rise inside in his body, the boy abandoned all sense of safety. Bruce gripped his hands into fists, opening the giant gash on his palm that had already scabbed over. He screamed as loud as he could, and didn't care who could hear it.

"KARA!"

The boy finally stopped, his body heaving from the strain on his lungs. The wind whispered all around him, but a distant noise suddenly stopped him dead.

A soft, feminine voice called back to him, "Bruce?"

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26, 28, 29, 31, 32, 34, 41, 43, 46, 48, 50, 51, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 39, 54

(5) Contestants remaining


	63. Scarred

(Author's note: I'd just like to point out to everyone that this chapter is being posted on the day exactly one year after I began this fanfic. Thanks to everyone who stuck around this long!)

The girl hurriedly pushed her way through the shrubbery. Branches smacked her in the face, but she wasn't fazed at all. She continued her speedy trek through the woods, toward the voice that had screamed her name. The yell had frightened her at first, since it immediately informed her that someone was nearby. This thought alone was enough to send her running in the opposite direction. But slowly, she recognized that the person was yelling for her. They were yelling Kara's (Girl #24) name.

There was only one person who would call out for her like that. It was Bruce (Boy #23), and the desperation she'd heard had been enough to know that he wanted to find her. He wanted to locate her and protect her, like he most likely wanted to do for all their friends. All their friends who were now dead. All except Jeff (Boy #22).

At first, Kara wasn't sure whether or not to answer. The announcements had proved that Jeff had killed Molly (Girl #9). Mr. Smith hadn't come out and said it, but the hints he had given told the story with enough detail. Jeff was looking for the win, and had killed his friend to get there. But Kara couldn't help but feel slightly responsible herself. Molly had been upset with her, and if Kara had addressed it like a true friend, then Molly wouldn't have gotten angry and started yelling. Or maybe if Kara had been able to warn Molly about the two weapons she saw… Regardless, Kara had run off like a coward and Molly was dead. Just like she had done with Justin (Boy #18).

_Will Bruce die because of me also?_

The guilt had eaten away at her as Bruce's voice had echoed into the night. But she had called back. Kara knew she was being selfish, but she also knew that Bruce would not be able to protect her from everything. She was still going to die – Kara merely wanted one last chance to talk to Bruce like she wanted. To confess everything and see what he would say. Even if he rejected her, the knowledge would give her a little peace of mind. She needed to know if he loved her back.

"Kara!" Bruce called out again, his voice even closer than before.

"Bruce, I'm over here!" Kara responded, pushing away some low branches. She walked around trees and through dense bushes, the wood opening cuts on her arms. The girl finally stopped when a figure blocked her path. Fear grasped hold of her for a second, but Bruce enclosed her in his arms, feeling the relief wash over him.

"Kara, thank God I found you." Bruce whispered, holding her closer. Kara wrapped her own arms around him, letting her duffel bag containing the bowling ball drop to the ground with a thud. Already she could feel his protection consuming her, like an invisible shield that would guard her from anything. Warmth flooded through both of their bodies as they continued to hold one another.

_Tell him now. Tell him before you lose your nerve completely._

Bruce couldn't even portray how happy he was at that moment. He'd been searching for so long, praying that he would see any one of his friends again. Through the hardship of losing so much of his family, to the pain from the battles he'd been in - it was all worth it for that moment. Kara had been returned to him.

_There's no more time to lose. It's time to tell her how you really feel._

"Bruce?" Kara beat him to it, "There's something I want to ask you."

The two people finally separated from their hug, even though their arms never left the other's sides. Slowly Bruce's hand drifted back and grabbed hold of Kara's. He stared slightly down at her eyes and she avoided his gaze for a moment. Kara took a deep breath and returned the stare with a smile. She opened her mouth to speak when a loud popping noise filled the air. Kara's head jerked to the side, and for a moment, Bruce was slightly confused. It had sounded like the noise had come from his right, why had Kara's head gone the other way?

Bruce watched as Kara's legs suddenly gave way and he reached out trying to catch her. He fumbled miserably and ended up falling on top of her with a thud. He pulled himself off her body and stared down at Kara's eyes as they continued off to the side. Bruce could tell something was wrong.

"Kara?" Bruce choked out as he placed a hand behind her head. He found it surprisingly wet there and retracted his hand in disgust. It was at that point that the boy noticed the small hole at the side of her temple. Blood oozed out from the opening and soaked the girl's hair in its sticky consistency.

A boy that had been hiding in the shadows finally emerged, walking slowly and carefully. In his hand he held the semiautomatic handgun. Bruce heard the footsteps and slowly his hand tightened around the katana he held.

"I wouldn't have found you so easily if you hadn't been yelling." Jeff said coldly. At the sound of his friend's voice, Bruce immediately loosened his grip of the sword. He turned his face up, eyes brimming with tears. He took in the whole sight, Jeff holding the gun in his right hand, the left hand holding the scythe still wet with Molly's blood.

"Please, Kara," Bruce whimpered, "Don't be dead." He shook her slightly and more blood flowed from the headshot.

"I didn't plan on killing her right away," Jeff continued, standing directly behind Bruce, the gun aimed at the back of his head. "But I thought that she would…complicate things if she was still alive."

"Kara…" Bruce's voice trailed off.

"Still, she didn't suffer nearly as much as I wanted her to." Jeff continued, placing the gun into the front of the waist of his pants and switching the sickle over to his right hand. "I guess that means that you'll have to suffer double for her."

With a cry, Bruce whirled around, swinging the katana as he went. But Jeff had seen it coming and back flipped up and over the blade, landing a little ways off. Bruce swung the katana with intense force, but Jeff blocked with the scythe. The blade of the sword hit metal and then slid off the curvature of the sickle. Bruce was thrown off balance and Jeff took this moment to reach back and grab the can of eye mace sitting in his back pocket. He smacked Bruce in the side of the face with the can and then sprayed it directly into his face until no more liquid emerged.

Bruce screamed in pain as Jeff nonchalantly tossed the empty can into the forest with a metallic clang. Bruce swiped blindly with the sword, but Jeff had already put some distance between the two boys.

"She loved you, you know." Jeff sneered and then quickly changed position as Bruce struck where he had been. "She admitted it to me once. Told me that she loved you and was afraid to tell you."

Bruce again swiped blindly, again he missed. Jeff continued to circle his prey like a shark. Slowly wearing him down. Bruce tried to open his eyes but more mace seeped in, stinging his eyes all over again.

"I can't tell you how stupid you both sounded. You both admitted to me that you loved the other, and then made me promise not to tell."

_Okay, it's time to stop fucking around. This is the moment I knew would eventually come. This was why I observed him and watched him react. This was why I got to know him better than I know myself. I know what hurts him, and I know what he's afraid of. It's time to use it!_

"Why are you fighting me Bruce?" Jeff asked. The damaged boy stopped, letting the tears course down his face. "I know you didn't have that sword the last time I saw you, but you haven't killed anyone. I know you Bruce – you don't have it in you to murder. So why are you trying to kill me now?"

Bruce completely froze, letting Jeff's words sink in. His grip on the katana loosened slightly.

"Is it because you want to go home? Why would you do that, Bruce?" Jeff lowered his voice considerably, "We both know your father doesn't love you." Bruce's mouth dropped open. His best friend's words cut into him severely, and his head drooped in defeat.

"Or maybe, you're afraid of dying," Jeff continued, his eyes narrowing, "But not for the reasons everyone else have. No, you're afraid that if you die, you'll see your mother again."

Jeff moved in close, standing directly behind his best friend. "And you'll be reminded that she never loved you either."

"DON'T TALK ABOUT MY MOTHER!" Bruce roared with rage, ducking low beneath Jeff's swipe. The murderer's eyes opened wide with surprise as Bruce forced his stinging eyes open and swung upwards with the katana at Jeff. The boy jumped back to avoid a good majority of the blade, but the end caught the flesh on his chest, forming a deep cut upwards, which was definitely going to leave a scar later, as well as slicing the T-shirt that had been wrapped around his torso. The shirt fell to the ground, revealing the scar on Jeff's chest in its entirety. It burned him fiercely.

Jeff gazed up in enough time to see Bruce's fist just before it was buried into his cheek. The murderer fell to the ground, his face throbbing. Enough of the eye mace had worn off so that Bruce could finally open his eyes again. They continued to sting and his vision was still slightly blurred, but it was better than being blind. He stared down at his friend before him, his eyes watering over from the mace. But true tears had found their way into his eyes as well.

"Why are you doing this, Jeff?" Bruce asked, "I don't want to fight you. Why are you forcing me into this? Why are you killing?"

_He doesn't know WHY?_

The apathetic stare was gone. Jeff roared with hatred as he was up on his feet, swiping madly with the scythe. Bruce jumped back, dodging and reflecting the blade as best he could.

"YOU DON'T KNOW WHY?" Jeff screamed, "You lying sack of shit! Don't even try to play with my mind! You planned this from the first day we met!"

Jeff launched out a kick that connected with Bruce's gut and the boy swiped down, slicing into Bruce's thigh. With a strike of his own, Bruce forced Jeff back and that removed the blade. The pain rushed through his body, but he pushed it away out of necessity. Jeff was on the attack again.

"You tried to get inside my head!" Jeff swung to the side. "You wanted to know more about me!" He swung down. "So that you could use it against me!" He swung up. "And add to my pain! I'VE FELT ENOUGH PAIN!"

Jeff rolled to the side, and in his tucked state, removed the switchblade hidden in his sock. In one fluid motion he snapped the weapon open and threw it at Bruce. The boy was almost too stunned to react in time but managed to move slightly. The blade flew right by the boy's face, slicing off a small piece from his earlobe instead of sticking out of his forehead like Jeff had planned. Before Bruce could blink twice, Jeff had approached him and attempted to gut him like a fish. The boy fell back to the ground and rolled away from a downward slice.

"You spew this bullshit about wanting to protect us all the time, and taking sacrifices for our sake!" Jeff roared, "Well, where were you when I NEEDED YOU THE MOST?"

Bruce scrambled on the ground, wanting to stop and take in what his best friend was yelling, but instead being forced into survival mode. His hand closed around the switchblade that Jeff had used, now lying on the ground, and flung it up at Jeff's approaching figure. He easily dodged it with a quick sidestep.

Bruce climbed to his feet, "Jeff, I didn't know-"

"NO MORE EXCUSES!" Jeff rushed forward, sickle soaring for Bruce's neck, "You're just as bad as everyone else! I was abandoned by EVERYONE! Those kids-"

The boy missed his lunge at Bruce's throat and then, for the first time in a few minutes, Jeff ceased his constant attack. His head leaned downwards and his free hand instantly went up to his scar.

"Those kids…made me hate myself. They learned what they could about me and used it against me. They used it to make me feel like I was nothing. And I hated myself for having those vulnerabilities. I hated them too, for making me feel that way about myself. And I hate everyone else, for allowing this to happen. No one came to my rescue. Everyone is as bad as those kids for allowing me to suffer alone!"

The boy's head snapped upwards, the fury returning to his face. His eyes met Bruce's. "It's your turn now! You need to feel what you've done to me! EVERYONE MUST FEEL MY PAIN!"

The boy rushed forward, aiming his scythe at Bruce's chest. Bruce leapt back away from the blade, but Jeff struck out earlier than expected, sinking the point of the sickle into Bruce's forearm. The boy cried out in pain and dropped the katana to the ground. Jeff pulled back the scythe and swung again, this time missing Bruce completely. Jeff quickly knelt down and picked up the katana.

"And you're the WORST!" Jeff hissed, "You pretended to CARE!"

Bruce instantly flung his hand back to his hind pocket and grabbed the kitchen knife he'd been given at the very start of the game. He whipped it out and stood facing his best friend who was armed with a scythe, a katana, and a handgun that was still tucked into his waist. The futility of everything sunk in at that point. Jeff was unreachable. And no matter how hard he attempted to stay alive, Bruce would never be able to kill Jeff. With a sigh, he finally allowed his arms to hang limply at his side.

"I'm sorry, Jeff," Bruce said, his eyes watering over with tears again, "I'm sorry…that I couldn't help you." He hung his head in utter defeat.

Jeff stared at him from only a few feet away.

_He's…giving up?_

Good! Hurry before he changes his mind! Kill him!

But-

KILL HIM!

Jeff raced forward, the scythe poised high above his head, ready to make the final strike.

* * *

_There's no reason to rush._

The girl had found them a few minutes ago, and she had refrained from making an entrance. With all the yelling they'd been doing, it was any wonder why more contestants hadn't come this way. A dangerous thought entered her mind at that moment. Maybe no other contestants were drawn to the noise because there were no other living contestants out there! There had only been six at midnight. Granted, not too much time had passed since that point, but it was possible wasn't it? After all, one of the boys fighting in front of her was the deadly one who had almost killed her. He certainly hadn't lost any of his intensity. And the things he was saying? A soap opera couldn't have created a better serial killer.

The other one was significantly interesting as well. He was definitely on the losing end of this battle, but he had avoided major injury rather well. A stab wound to the thigh and one to the wrist area? That was hardly damaging. A little fabric to wrap it with and the wounds would pose no immediate threat. Plus, the cartilage lost from the earlobe was insignificant, like getting his ear pierced. This boy just wasn't fighting his hardest. She couldn't understand why, but it was very obvious. It almost appeared like he wanted to lose the battle.

Ariana (Girl #18) stifled a gasp when she saw one of the boys lower his arms. At first she thought it was some sort of tactical maneuver. But as she watched the boy droop his head in submission, she knew that that was a mistake. One had conceded defeat. This battle was over.

_Perfect._

It would be easy from this moment on. Ariana quietly lifted the shotgun up to eye level, carefully taking aim at Jeff. Once he made the finishing slice, Ariana would fire at the stationary target, eliminating him with one single shotgun shell. Once that deadly boy was out of the way, the other would be easily eliminated, assuming he was still alive.

_Victory's as good as mine._

Ariana held her breath as she followed Jeff's charge, her finger ready to pull the trigger.

* * *

Bruce opened his eyes and stared down at the ground. He could hear Jeff approaching, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to look at him. He was afraid that he would remember Jeff only as the boy who had killed him, and only see his face as it looked before Bruce's murder. But he finally lifted his head, staring at the boy who was about to become his murderer.

Off to the side, the tiniest bit of moonlight reflected off something metal in the woods. At first, Bruce was confused, but his mind returned to the very recent past.

_"I wouldn't have found you so easily if you hadn't been yelling."_

"JEFF!" Bruce cried out, "GET DOWN!"

Bruce rushed forward at Jeff, watching the boy's eyes widen in surprise. Bruce plowed into Jeff's body, just as a loud explosion ripped through the air. Bruce felt his knife sink into some soft dirt and so he released the handle, reaching instead to Jeff's waist. The boy grabbed the handgun and immediately began to fire it into the forest where he had seen the reflection of the moon. A painful gasp echoed out from the dense forest followed by another loud explosion that ripped bark from trees that weren't even close to the two boys on the ground. A desperation shot. Bruce could hear someone sprinting away before lowering the empty gun. A new sound filled his ears.

Jeff was panting. His breathing sounded labored, and as Bruce turned back, he instantly saw why. His knife had not sunk into the dirt. Instead, it protruded from the center of Jeff's chest, in the exact center of his scar. From his position on his back, Jeff slowly released the scythe and the katana as tears welled in his eyes and streaked down from the side of his eyes, past his temple, and into his hair. He raised both hands up like he was attempted to lift something heavy from his body, but he didn't dare touch the knife.

_The pain…it's too much for me…_

He let out a cry of anguish as the suffering enveloped his body, and the all too familiar feeling of the blade in his chest ripped through his being.

"Jeff!" Bruce gasped, "NO!"

He reached out to his best friend, but Jeff pushed him away.

"NO! DON'T TOUCH IT!" he hissed through clenched teeth, "YOU'LL MAKE IT WORSE!"

Ignoring his friend, Bruce reached out and grabbed hold of the handle, hearing Jeff scream inhumanly. With one quick motion, the knife was yanked from Jeff's body and his eyes opened wide.

_The pain…it's…gone…_

Jeff turned his head and watched Bruce hurl the knife away in disgust. Jeff glanced down and saw a river of his blood emerged from the center of his scar, slowly covering his entire torso. But he could feel no more pain. It was completely gone.

_But why?_

Bruce reached down and grabbed hold of one of Jeff's hands, squeezing it tight.

"Don't worry, Jeff." Bruce said, his eyes welling up, "You're going to be okay. You're going to be fine. Just stay with me."

_It was Bruce. Bruce helped me. He relieved my pain._

There's no way! Bruce is a liar, just like Dexter was! That traitor could not have helped me.

Was it always that simple? Did I just need some help?

Bruce squeezed his best friend's hand even tighter. The tears flowed freely, soaking the ground with salty water.

"I'm sorry Jeff!" he sobbed, "I'm sorry you've been hurting all this time! If I had known, I would have tried to help you. Please, please don't die. You're the only family I have left!"

_If he had known…he would have helped me. But that was the problem, wasn't it? No one knew. I was…too scared to ask for help. Too scared I'd get hurt again._

If he had known, he would have-

Has my pain always been my fault?

Jeff weakly squeezed Bruce's clutched hand back. The pressure surprised the boy and he stared down at his best friend. He was almost shocked at the brilliant smile the boy possessed. Jeff's eyes watered over as his breathing became even more labored.

"I'm sorry, Bruce." Jeff wheezed, but continued to smile.

_Some scars are too well hidden to be seen._

"No, Jeff." Bruce whimpered, "Please don't go."

_It's always been my fault._

The boy's hand went limp.

And just like that, The Program's lead antagonist was eliminated from the game.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26, 28, 29, 31, 32, 34, 41, 43, 46, 48, 50, 51, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 39, 54

(3) Contestants remaining


	64. Beginning of the End

Bruce's (Boy #23) eyes flooded with tears. He stared down at the lifeless body of his best friend, Jeff (Boy #22), before glancing of to the side at the only girl he'd ever felt he loved, Kara (Girl #24). All of his friends were dead now. And the two most important people in his life had died moments before, leaving Bruce completely and utterly alone.

He'd been powerless to stop it. Ever since he'd been thrust into The Program, his sole intetion had been to find and protect those who meant the most to him. His friends were scattered all over, but he told himself that it was possible. He would find them. He would help them. And as long as he was alive, he'd shield them from any form of harm. But all those righteous thoughts had meant nothing in the end. He hadn't been able to locate them. Most died before Bruce even knew where they were. And the two he did find…

His body continued to shake. The guilt weighed heavily upon his shoulders. He hadn't been able to help Kara. Even when she was in his presence, she was killed. Bruce had been completely useless to her – his protection had meant nothing. And Jeff had died by Bruce's hand. It had been an accident, but Bruce couldn't remove the moment in his mind. He continued to feel the knife sink into the ground, only now he knew that he was mortally wounding his friend. Jeff's death had been his fault.

"Please," Bruce whispered painfully, "Please don't leave me alone."

_"Remember, Bruce, you have the ability to protect the ones you love. Never let anyone get in the way of that."_

The words rang loudly in his ears, but they didn't bring the comfort that the boy usually associated with them. Instead, his body shook a little harder.

_I'm sorry, Mother. I failed. You were wrong about me. I can't protect anyone. Not even myself.  
_  
Bruce's eyes dropped to the ground, where a small beam of moonlight reflected off the metal handgun lying nearby. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, but then his breathing returned to normal. His hand reached out and grabbed hold of the gun. Bruce knew it was empty, since he had fired all the bullets at the intruder only a few minutes before. His eyes narrowed on Jeff's duffel bag and he moved over to it, unzipping it and emptying its contents. Several clips fell out onto the ground and Bruce picked one up, examining it. His attention then returned to the gun, and he found the position of the empty clip. He fumbled with the weapon for a moment, but suddenly an empty piece was detached and clattered to the dirt. Bruce grabbed the full clip and slid it into place, reloading the gun completely.

_"Protecting is more than just helping out when someone could get hurt. It means that I give my all to them. I do everything in my power for them, because their life is now my life too."  
_  
Bruce had said those words hadn't he? It sounded like something he would say. It made sense to him. His life was dependent on the lives of those he cared about most. It was almost as if protecting them was a form of protecting himself. But that didn't matter anymore. Their lives were gone, therefore, so was his. Bruce wasn't a human being anymore – he was an empty shell, void of any hope or faith. As each one of them died, a piece of him had died along with them. They were all gone now – Bruce was as dead as they were.

He slowly raised the gun, pointing the barrel against his temple. His finger hovered over the trigger, slowly inching its way toward the metal. Bruce's eyes continued to water over, since the boy had been unable to stop crying since Jeff's death. But now he cried for himself – the lonely boy who desperately wanted to see his friends again. His finger touched the trigger.

Instantly, an image flashed in front of his eyes. He and his friends were all together again, playing video games at Bruce's house like they used to. The boys laughed as the game continued, and the girls chatted amongst themselves, stealing glances over at their male friends before whispering some more. They were all in their environment here. The comfort of each other's company was all they really sought, so it didn't matter what they were doing. They all just wanted to exist – together.

_I'm not going to get that back._

Bruce lowered the gun, feeling the depression wash over him. He now understood that killing himself was no guarantee. There was no way of knowing if he was ever going to see his friends again. What was the point of ending his life? That wouldn't help anyone.

_"Remember, Bruce, you have the ability to protect the ones you love. Never let anyone get in the way of that."_

His mother's words floated inside his head again.

_But I did let someone get in the way, Mother. The Program. The Program killed my friends, my family._

The sadness slowly left the boy. The deaths of his friends had been his fault because he did not find them in time, and was not able to protect them. It was The Program that got in his way. The Program had pushed Bruce around until it was too late. And now his friends were dead.

_I don't have anything left to live for. My life is meaningless. But my actions still have meaning! And I will RIP THE PROGRAM APART FOR KILLING MY FAMILY!_

An unseen hatred suddenly rose up within the boy. His anger pulsed through his veins and he gripped the handgun so tightly that he almost pulled the trigger. With a strong conviction, the boy stood, tucking the handgun into the front of his waist like Jeff had done. He took the remaining clips and stuffed them into his duffel bag. He marched a little ways off, picking up the switchblade that lied on the ground and slipped it into his pocket. He took a few more steps, eying the kitchen knife that had been his designated weapon. Jeff's blood still glistened on the blade, and so Bruce turned away in disgust. He approached the corpse of his best friend, leaning over and grabbing the handle of the katana. Bruce's other free hand paused over the handle of the sickle. He questioned whether to take the hand scythe or not, but upon staring down at Jeff's body, decided to take the blade as well.

Bruce was fully prepared now. He was ready to take on the remaining contestants and claim the win. And once he was the victor and free of the playing field, he would break apart and destroy The Program from the ground up. Nothing would escape his righteous vengeance!

The boy took a few more steps before glancing back at the dead bodies of his two friends. His hatred-filled eyes softened for a moment before he turned away.

_I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. But you're deaths won't be for nothing! I will make them all pay! Just wait for me a little longer. I loved you all. I truly did._

The boy raced off into the forest, following the far off sounds of explosive gunshots.

* * *

_FUCK! SHIT! DAMN!_

Ariana (Girl #18) hobbled through the dark forest. In one hand she held the powerful shotgun. Her other hand was tightly gripped to her stomach. Just barely beyond her thin fingers, a patch of dark red was slowly spreading from under her shirt. Pain shot through her body, despite the fact that the only injury had been done to her stomach.

_How the fuck did I get SHOT? What were the statistics there? The fucking boy didn't even know where I was, just aiming into the forest! And he shoots me? What the fuck?_

The girl continued to scream curse words inside her head as she carried on. The truth of the matter was that the statistics were no longer in her favor. A gunshot wound was a very serious injury. If the blood loss didn't kill her, then the resulting infection most likely would. Ariana couldn't do a damn thing about bacteria entering her system, since everything from the playing field had been removed, including antibiotics. But if she found some shelter and wrapped her wound properly, she could make it to the end of the game without too much difficulty. The response team would no doubt be able to clean her wound, since it was bad television if the winner of The Program died soon after.

Ariana didn't truly care about the record or impressive kills or anything like that. What mattered was the victory. As long as the victory was hers, then it didn't matter what other injuries she was inflicted with. Even if her face was horribly disfigured, none of the other contestants could ever harm her mind – that was the most important part. Despite the body's usefulness, Ariana's father had been correct. The body would eventually grow old and fade, but her mind would be ever present into her later years. And if she worked hard, Ariana could eventually ascend to the next level, where her mind would be preserved for all eternity. But before that could happen, more people needed to die. And before that could happen, Ariana needed to address her wound.

Ariana thought back to the very recent past, right before she had been shot. It had been dark, but she could see the two boys battling in the forest. If one hadn't seen her in the woods somehow, they'd both be dead. More than likely, one had died anyways. And on the ground nearby, Ariana's eyes spotted the corpse of another girl. If the girl's brilliant mind had been correct (which it almost always was), then that girl was Kara, whose name had not been read off previously in any announcement. Six had been alive at the end of day two, and that number was already dropped by two. At most, four remained. Ariana's statistics of success increased with each rise in the body count.

With nothing else to occupy her mind, except the desire to get somewhere safe and stop the bleeding, the girl's thoughts drifted to the moment when she was named the victor. They'd go out and retrieve her, bringing her back like some war hero. She'd be healed and dressed and make her way to the press conference that immediately followed that season's performance. Ariana would talk to the reporters about her strategy and what she was thinking during the game. And following that, she would use every opportunity to increase her position. She would use the notoriety to gain access to secret facilities where the truly dangerous knowledge was held. Ariana would learn all that she could, making her mind more and more powerful. The starting point was The Program. She couldn't have asked for a better opportunity.

* * *

Leslie (Girl #25) moved through the dense forest, staring almost completely downward. A small blinking device was held in her left hand, while the right tightly gripped the machete. The dots were almost all stationary, and that had given Leslie a little relief at first, since she was sure no other contestants were around. But that had changed. Dots had been moving, and while some were now stationary, others continued to make their way across her cracked screen. With a deep breath full of conviction, the girl had started moving toward them.

Every once in a while, the screen would go completely blank, and Leslie would be trapped in the overwhelming darkness for a few seconds. The girl tried shaking it, but that had no effect. She smacked it against her hand, but that didn't work either. It was only in a moment of anger that she thrust the device down to the ground, instantly bringing it back to life. The screen had cracked a little more, but it no longer went out on her for any reason.

Leslie was slowly making her way towards the moving dots. She knew that another fight was ahead of her, but the fear was gone. She wasn't afraid of her anger anymore, and she wasn't afraid of the other contestants. Instead, Leslie was driven by hope. And it wasn't her own hope either. It was the hope of the only friend she'd ever had, and a dying wish that she try to survive. She had promised him. Leslie intended to keep that promise.  
The girl was slightly surprised when she emerged from the woods into a wide open area. She gazed around and saw a few houses nearby. Leslie was back in the suburban district. A sense of anxiety washed over her because she recalled that a portion of that area was going to be a danger zone. That moment was still a little over an hour off, but she didn't want to make the mistake of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She glanced at the map and her compass, slowly discovering that she was safe in her current position.

With a sigh of relief, Leslie stared back at the moving dot. She watched as it drew closer and closer to her current location.

_If there are many other contestants remaining, they won't be in this area. A part of the suburban district is going to become a danger zone, so those remaining will run from it. Also, there are plenty of houses for me to find some shelter and wrap my wound. Maybe I'll even remove the bullet with my ice pick._

The procedure for removing a bullet raced through Ariana's mind just as she broke through the forest border. She continued forward a few more steps, when all of a sudden, she froze. A good twenty feet away, another person stood, staring directly at her. Ariana squinted in the dark and saw a very recognizable device clutched in the girl's hand.

_The collar detector?_

Ariana immediately recalled that the machine was a very common weapon used in many The Program seasons. Ariana understood that the intruder knew she was coming this way. If Leslie had not been playing, she would have avoided the other contestants at all costs. Ariana knew that this girl was looking to end her.

With a quick movement, Ariana swung up the shotgun and clocked off a shot. Leslie was surprised that this girl possessed the shotgun, and some unwanted memories flooded back to her. A few pellets struck Leslie off to her side, but the bulletproof vest absorbed the metal before it could harm her body. Still, the impact caused her to cry out and she stumbled back.

Ariana looked on in horror as the girl didn't drop to the ground or anything else of the sort. Her eyes narrowed and she saw the image of the vest covering Leslie's torso.

_Fuck! She has the vest too!_

Ariana aimed instead for Leslie's head, but this shot sailed wide as the girl ducked low. Leslie attempted to move closer, but Ariana had reloaded the weapon and prepared to fire again. Leslie ducked and rolled as Ariana fired shell after shell, each one missing by only a narrow margin. Ignoring the dizziness that rocked her body, Ariana continued the target practice, trying her best to advance and get a better shot. Leslie kept the distance between the two girls, knowing that she simply needed to bide her time.

Ariana pulled the trigger and a soft clicked echoed through the empty air. The shotgun was empty. Leslie dropped the collar detector and immediately raced forward, the machete raised high. Ariana dropped the shotgun and unzipped her backpack. She grabbed the first weapon that she touched and swung it out. Leslie jumped back, not sure what the girl held in her hand. Ariana watched as the bike chain hung loosely from her clasped palm. The girl swung it out at Leslie's body and the girl easily dodged it. But this gave Ariana enough time to pull out another more useful weapon.

The tire iron was out in a flash, and raised up high to block Leslie's downward swipe. The blade connected with the metal shaft and was stopped. Ariana was about to take advantage of the standoff, but Leslie beat her to it, extending a leg that jabbed into Ariana's stomach. The girl fell back with a loud screech as the bullet was pushed even further into her body. She turned just in time to see Leslie swipe down at her vulnerable figure. Ariana blocked with the tire iron again, but this time her free hand reached out and grabbed the shotgun lying nearby. Using the gun as another blunt object, Ariana swung it up, connecting with the side of Leslie's head. The girl tumbled to the side as Ariana jumped to her feet.

The blood loss was already beginning to affect her, but Ariana couldn't let an opportunity like this one pass her by. She was upon Leslie in an instant, swinging both blunt objects at her figure. Leslie managed to get the machete up in time to block the blow of the tire iron and the subsequent shotgun strike as well. Leslie extended a foot out and kicked Ariana away from her. The girl fell back with a cry.

Before she knew what was going on, Ariana was back on her feet and running. She didn't stand a chance against this girl without her superior firepower. She needed to get away, find some place safe. She needed to stop the blood leaving her body and reload her shotgun. She'd be a formidable opponent then. But if things continued, Ariana would die.

The girl grabbed her duffel bag as she ran, heading back into the safety of the forest. She glanced back at the figure of Leslie who had finally risen to her feet but was not giving chase. Ariana turned back just as she entered the forest and screamed. Two eyes stared back at her.

The eyes of Bruce stared down at the shotgun the girl held and the bullet wound to her stomach. In an instant, the scythe lashed out from the safety of the trees, burying itself in Ariana's bountiful bosom. She screamed in horror as she jumped back, trying to escape her new attacker. Bruce followed her, striking again with the scythe at her chest. He slid the scythe out and then buried in her body one last time, at the base of her neck. Ariana gurgled as her beautiful eyes watered over in tears.

_NO! Statistics were on MY side! I should be alive! What happens to my mind now? All the work I've done! All for nothing!_

The girl dropped to her knees like she had done several times before, for varying reasons. She stared up at the boy before her as he reached into his waist and pulled out the handgun that had resided there.

"This is for Jeff!" he roared, pulling the trigger.

But surprisingly enough, a bullet didn't exit the barrel of the gun. Instead, it was a plume of fire that rushed out, swirling around her in a torrent of blaze. The fire ate away her clothes and burned her eyes. She closed them and tried to escape the fire, but it persisted, digging further into her body.

_"But at what cost? What happens to your soul?"_

The words echoed all around her as blackness consumed her vision. All she could see, all she could feel was the fire. Slowly, the girl realized she was falling. Falling away from the blaze. She plummeted in the darkness, the words slowly becoming louder and louder.

_"But at what COST? What HAPPENS to your SOUL?"_

The girl tried to scream, but nothing came out. Instead, below her she saw more fire. But not just any, this fire burned in a ring. A circle of fire. She fell through the center, this blaze hurting her more than the previous had. And then another. Another. Six. Seven. She fell through the eighth circle. The words were deafening now.

_"BUT AT WHAT COST? WHAT HAPPENS TO YOUR SOUL?"_

The final circle of fire burned below her. But she didn't pass through this one. She stopped dead, the inferno blazing all around her. The fire burned her fiercely, and it appeared that there would be no end to this torture.

_Dante's ninth circle of hell._

* * *

Bruce stared down at the corpse at his feet. What had been Ariana's brilliant mind was now a pile of grey mush oozing from the hole in her face. Something inside Bruce told him that her death was his fault, and that eventually he would have to pay for his sins. But at that moment, he didn't care. He'd murdered the girl, only to find that the act had been surprisingly…easy. He wondered if Jeff's kills had been that simple.

Bruce reached down and grabbed the scythe before stepping over the dead body, emerging further into the suburban area. Despite the darkness that surrounded him, the boy knew he was not alone. He could just make out her figure in the waning light. And right on cue, the moon shone brightly from behind the dark clouds, bathing the entire area in pale moonlight. The two fighters immediately began to size up their opponent.

Bruce recognized Leslie from school. They'd never actually met formally, but he recognized her sneering face in crowded areas, and he had heard all the rumors floating around about her and her fighting skills. The boy's eyes narrowed at the machete she continued to hold in one hand. His eyes picked up on the hammer that hung from her belt loop. There was no mistaking it. Bruce had been attacked by that hammer before, and if he remembered correctly, then this girl had eliminated a very tough opponent – a previous owner of the hammer. He determined that she also possessed his other weapon – a hunting knife, even though Bruce couldn't see it. It was perhaps inside her duffel bag, which remained off to the side. Who knew what else she had in there? Bruce would not underestimate this girl.

Leslie didn't know who the boy in front of her was, since she never took the time to memorize faces and names. Instead, she focused on what she could see. Her immediate attention went to the gun he held. That certainly threw the odds in his favor, but Leslie's bulletproof vest would serve her well in this battle. There would be no easy kill for him. In his free hand, the boy gripped a bloody scythe. She didn't see any other weapons right away, but she guessed that he had some in his bag. As she glanced harder, she could just barely see the handle of the katana sticking out from the inside. She'd been attacked with the katana before, but it wasn't this boy. Leslie decided it wasn't worth her time to try and figure things out. The gun alone made Bruce a threat. She would not underestimate this boy.

"She is the third dead body I've seen." Bruce spoke out loud.

Leslie's eyes narrowed, but she didn't respond.

"There were six of us at midnight. I know that three are now dead. Besides you and me, there is one more person out there."

"No there's not." The girl finally spoke, "Unless you and I are thinking of the same person, which I doubt. I killed one of them."

"Well, it seems that we are the last two contestants alive." Bruce whispered.

"Looks that way to me too." Leslie whispered as well.

"I want you to know that I don't want this." Bruce said, "I don't want to kill you. However, I'm not backing down. All of my friends are dead, and I will get revenge on the people who put them in this fucking playing field to begin with! I won't let you get in the way of my reason for living! It's all I have left!"

"I'm not backing down either." Leslie called out, "I made…a promise…that I intend to keep. You will not stop me!"

A cold wind rushed all around them. It kicked up some loose dirt and blew it away from the two people. Their hands tightened around their weapons and their hearts began to beat faster. The moon suddenly disappeared behind some clouds, but still the two of them did not move. They stared deep into each other's eyes, understanding what was ahead of them. Both of them wanted to live. They had different reasons, but neither had any reservations. Now was not the time to become afraid. Only two remained, and neither would stop until the other was dead.

The moon reappeared in a burst of glory, and instantly the two fighters released battle cries, charging full speed at each other.

The final battle had begun.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26, 28, 29, 31, 32, 34, 41, 43, 46, 48, 50, 51, 56, 58, 61, 63, 64

Pending danger zones: 39, 54

(2) Contestants remaining


	65. Game Over

Leslie (Girl #25) struck first. She swung down hard with the machete, aiming straight for Bruce's (Boy #23) head. Bruce quickly held up the scythe to block the strike and directed it off to the side. He took quick aim and fired two bullets directly into the chest of his opponent. Leslie didn't even pretend to be injured, instead swinging the machete sideways at the side of Bruce's head. The boy jumped back in surprise, his eyes tracing downward and noticing the vest covering her otherwise naked torso. He knew immediately that the vest was bulletproof, cursing his bad luck. This battle wasn't going to end so easily.

Bruce took aim and fired at Leslie's vulnerable head, but missed due to her dodging movements. He decided he needed to choose his shots, since he wouldn't have the time to reload. He dodged another swipe from Leslie's machete and edged his way back to his duffel bag. Once Bruce was close enough, he returned the handgun to his waist and ducked down and grabbed the katana from his duffel bag, swinging out the large blade at Leslie's body. Her eyes widened in surprise as she ducked low, just below the blade that would have easily removed her head. Bruce quickly approached her with his two blades, swinging one after another, coming closer and closer to sinking the sharp edges into her flesh. Suddenly, without warning, Bruce drove the katana into the ground and used it to force himself forward with surprising force. He jumped into the air, planting a hard kick into Leslie's stomach before striking out with the scythe.

The girl tumbled to the ground and gasped as the curved sickle made its way toward her body. She rolled to the side, striking out with the machete as she did so. Bruce anticipated something like this and had the katana ready to block any desperation moves. Leslie quickly jumped to her feet. She'd only been using one weapon because of the wound to her other arm. But Bruce had the advantage if she remained in that state. She needed something to even things out. Her hand reached down, grabbing the hammer and resuming her battle position.

Bruce took a moment to breathe, the battle taking a lot of energy out of him. Leslie was clearly as skilled as he was – he was going to have a hard time trying to damage her. And that bulletproof vest made things even more difficult. All his attacks were muffled by its protection. But it was still too early to try anything desperate. There was no rush – as long as he avoided her attacks, he could survive this battle.

The girl ran at Bruce, launching herself in the air. Bruce held out the katana pointed at her figure to skewer her before she came any closer. Leslie swung out with the hammer, knocking the blade away before swinging down with the machete. Bruce held up the scythe in defense, preventing the large blade from splitting his face in two. He quickly dropped the katana to the ground, pulling out the handgun from the waist of his pants. But before he could lift it and fire, Leslie swung the hammer again, knocking the firearm from his hand. The girl swung the hammer one last time, connecting with Bruce's jaw.

Leslie was off and running for the gun that now laid on the ground while Bruce still recoiled from that last blow. His hand closed over the handle of the katana and gazed over just as Leslie reached the gun. To ensure that she would acquire the gun, the girl dropped the hammer and threw herself to the ground, grabbing the gun and spinning as she slid in the dirt. She took aim and fired the gun twice. Bruce was up and running as the bullets raced along behind him. The girl continued to fire and her heart skipped a beat when she heard Bruce cry out and go down hard. From his position on the ground, Bruce looked down, scanning his leg for the source of the pain. A tiny hole had appeared in one of his calves and the blood gushed from the new opening.

His mind flew into panic mode, realizing that he was a sitting target against someone with a gun. Bruce let go of the scythe as he watched Leslie climb to her feet and approach for a better shot. His hand flew to his pocket and grasped the object inside. With one fluid motion, the boy flipped the switchblade open and let it fly into the chest of the girl who was only a few feet away. The blade sunk into the Kevlar vest, not reaching the flesh beneath. Still, the act surprised Leslie and Bruce took this moment of hesitation to swing the katana at the hand holding the handgun. The blade struck only metal, but the force knocked the gun away from the both of them, entering the cover of the forest nearby.

Leslie quickly pulled the switchblade from her chest and swiped it Bruce, who still remained on the ground. He spun away, grabbing the scythe as he went. Leslie launched the knife back at Bruce with absolutely no finesse, the broad side striking his forehead. She took the time to run back and reclaim her hammer from the ground where she had dropped it. Bruce forced himself back up onto his feet, despite the pain that was rocketing up his leg.

The two fighters squared off again, both breathing considerably harder than when they began. Leslie's eyes drifted over to her duffel bag, where a coiled rope and a grenade were nestled close together. Neither appeared to be of great use at that moment. A grenade would be useless against this kind of opponent, who could easily avoid the blast or throw the explosive back at her. And a rope was not a useful fighting weapon. No, she had the hammer, the machete, and the hunting knife in her back pocket as a backup, not to mention the bulletproof vest. Besides, her opponent was wounded. He wouldn't take too much longer.

Bruce was beginning to panic. His handgun was gone. He held the hand scythe and the katana. The switchblade had been returned to his pocket. And he'd been shot. Things weren't looking so good for him anymore. His injury would inevitably slow him down. He couldn't try wearing her down anymore. It was time to try something drastic and hope for the best. He was all out of options. Bruce grasped the switchblade once again, snapping it open and holding it in the same hand as his katana. With a war cry, the boy charged forward.

He closed a good majority of distance quickly for someone with a gunshot wound to the calf. Leslie stood her ground, preparing herself for the incoming attack. Before he reached her, Bruce swung back his arm and released the sickle, the blade spinning toward her body. The girl knocked the blade to the ground with a single strike of her machete. She prepared herself for the blow Bruce would make with the katana. Her mouth opened when she saw the sword flying at her face. The girl sidestepped the blade just in time but could not avoid Bruce as he charged into her. He used his force to tackle the girl to the ground. He recovered quickly and stabbed the switchblade down at Leslie's face. The girl had only seconds to react, blocking with the hammer and then quickly extending the machete. He jumped up before the blade could slice him open and pulled the switchblade back, trying one more attempt at slashing the girl. He missed her neck but managed to slice her cheek deeply. With a cry, Leslie launched herself up and raced at Bruce.

As if his eyes had finally been cleared of a foggy film, the boy found the clarity he had been lacking earlier. The training of his fighting style returned to him – the defensive strike. He wasn't just fighting for himself – he was fighting for everyone he had wanted to protect!

_I won't let them down!_

Bruce dodged her initial swipe of the machete, fluidly slipping to the side and driving the switchblade into her vulnerable arm. Bruce took a long cleansing breath as the girl screamed out in pain, dropping the machete. The boy, surprisingly enough, kicked the long blade aside instead of grabbing it himself and then tossed the switchblade aside as well. Leslie raised the hammer and prepared to swing it down. Bruce took another long breath and raised a single arm, striking at Leslie's forearm and blocking her attack. He grabbed her wrist, easily finding the small pressure point and forcing her hand to drop the weapon. Again he kicked it away with his bad leg as he extended a fist toward the girl's face.

Leslie easily dodged the attack, quickly launching a punch of her own. Bruce blocked the attack and the three subsequent punches as well. The girl launched a powerful kick, but Bruce guided the attack past his body, making the girl stumble forward. His eyes drifted down and settled on the knife nestled in her back pocket. With a quick hand, Bruce reached out and grabbed the handle, pulling the knife out and holding it steadily in his hand. Leslie turned around with a gasp and just barely ducked beneath a lunge toward her neck. She swung a powerful uppercut that clipped the end of Bruce's chin and sent him back a few steps.

Now it was Leslie's turn to panic. She was completely weaponless. And her fighting skills, although impressive, were not equal with her opponent's at that moment. Something in him had changed that tipped the odds in his favor. Also, he had removed all her weapons and put himself between them and her. If she made a run for the scythe, the katana, the machete, or any of the other weapons lying on the ground, he'd strike with that hunting knife before she had gone three steps. Both of her arms were damaged now, and her energy was slowly leaving. This battle wouldn't last too much longer.

The girl's eyes drifted to the side for a moment where she could almost barely see another girl's corpse spread out on the ground. Not too far from her was another duffel bag. She gazed back at Bruce who seemed about ready to make his final strike. Leslie needed to take the chance. Maybe there were more weapons in the Ariana's (Girl #18) duffel bag. It was her only hope.

Leslie sprinted away, instantly hearing Bruce racing after her. She pushed herself onward, ignoring the gasps of air from the boy behind her. She ran as fast as she ever had before, suddenly feeling one of her legs giving out and tumbling to the ground right in front of the duffel bag. She gripped the handle of the bag and swung it up, the object striking Bruce as he leaned over to stab the hunting knife into her vulnerable body. The boy cried out in surprise as the bag connected with the side of his torso and the contents spilled out. Several dozen shotgun shells scattered over the ground as Leslie gripped the ice pick and lunged at her attacker. Bruce saw the attack coming before it was too late and dodged the point before it struck his chest. Leslie attacked again, her foot stepping on a shotgun shell and sending her off balance. Bruce quickly moved in and slashed at her hand, once again removing the weapon from the girl's possession. Leslie stepped back, the many wounds to her arms and hands covering the ground in her dark blood. Bruce's leg wound continued to bleed profusely, but it didn't appear to be affecting him.

_Damn! I'm going to die!_

Leslie's eyes widened in fear as she stepped backwards, once again landing on a shotgun shell. She glanced down momentarily, noticing the many casings surrounding her. An idea slowly formed inside her head, and she glanced around, her eyes falling on the object she needed. But first, she needed to lure him away.

The girl dropped down, picking up casing after casing and throwing them at Bruce's face. He moved his hands to protect his face, blocking his view of the girl for a moment. Her hand grasped one shell but didn't throw it. Instead, she used Bruce's temporary blind spot and took off for the weapons. Bruce turned his head and sprinted after her as best he could. He realized that she would beat him there, so he lunged forward with the hunting knife extended straight out, only to lose his balance and fall. In his descent, Bruce stretched his hand even further, watching the blade slide into the back of Leslie's thigh and then out again. She fell to the ground but quickly forced herself back on her feet. Leslie turned and saw that she still hadn't drawn Bruce far enough out. She needed more time. The girl took a few more steps and grabbed hold of the nearest weapon. She spun to face Bruce, the bloody scythe in her hand.

Bruce climbed to his feet, watching the girl carefully. She edged away from him, watching him edge even closer to her. The standoff continued, until Bruce made the first move. He swung a hard kick to the side. Leslie weathered the attack, absorbing the impact while trying to damage his leg at the same time. Bruce pulled his leg back before the scythe could be buried into it, not wanting to get both legs damaged. Suddenly, without warning, Leslie tossed the scythe straight up into the sky. Bruce's eyes instinctively followed it, and the girl used the distraction to her advantage. She secured his hand holding the hunting knife so that he couldn't stab her while in his personal space. The girl grabbed his opposite shoulder as well before tumbling backwards to the ground, bringing Bruce along with her. As the base of her back touched the dirt, Leslie pulled in her legs, placing them on Bruce's stomach. She continued to roll backwards, suddenly extending both legs and throwing Bruce high into the air behind her. Realizing that that was the furthest away she could force him to be, Leslie jumped back to her feet, the scythe plummeting down and slicing the ground where her head had been.

The girl took a quick breath and then raced back to Ariana's dead body. She hoped that she had given herself enough time. She crouched down and grabbed the weapon that rested close by. She opened her clenched fist to reveal the shotgun casing and pulled the shotgun close, looking for a way to reload it. Behind her, Leslie could hear Bruce quickly jump to his feet, despite his wounds. Her mind screamed in terror as she looked for some kind of opening or switch. She could hear his approaching footsteps as he drew ever closer.

Bruce watched as the girl crouched close to the ground, her back towards him. In her state, she was completely defenseless. He didn't care what she was concerning herself with – this was his chance to finally end her. She was the only one left standing in his way. He was going to win! He was going to get his chance for revenge! The Program would fall by his hands!

The boy was only a few feet away when he heard a loud clack and he raised the hunting knife high over his head. Without warning, Leslie rolled backwards toward his charging body. Bruce froze as Leslie stopped her roll just at his feet, the shotgun aimed directly above her – directly beneath Bruce's chin. He felt the cold metal against the bottom of his chin and his breathing began to become harder. From the very bottom of his eyes, he could barely see Leslie's figure below him, but he could hear her breathing. She continued to gasp for air, despite the fact that the battle was now over. He didn't dare move his head to look at her. Instead, Bruce closed his eyes, staring into the deep darkness that surrounded him.

He took one breath.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes, surprised by the sight before him. He was standing in front of his house. His old house, the one he had lived in before he and his father had moved. Bruce raced to the door and tugged it open, almost tearing it from its hinges. The sound of laughter filled his ears as he walked into his living room that was occupied with people.

"It's about time you got here." Genevive (Girl #21) smirked from her seat on the couch.

"We've been waiting for you for a while now." Molly (Girl #9) said, her arm draped around Derek's (Boy #2) shoulders.

"I know someone who'll be really happy you're finally here." Justin (Boy #18) said slyly. Right on cue, a feminine voice cried out his name. Bruce turned his head just in time to see Kara (Girl #24) jump into him, wrap him in her arms, and kiss him passionately. She hugged him tightly as tears of joy raced down her face and Bruce embraced her back.

"I see our fearless leader has finally decided to join us."

Bruce opened his eyes in surprise and gazed off to his side. Jeff (Boy #22) stood there nonchalantly with a knowing smile on his face. Bruce let go of Kara and made his way over to Jeff, standing directly in front of him. Jeff gazed back, the same brilliant smile on his face as the one he had when he died. Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but Jeff cut him off.

"Before you get all mushy here, I think there's one more person you should see." Jeff pointed off to the side, the direction of the kitchen. Bruce nodded and wasted no time getting there, swinging the door open with a bang.

"Bruce, you scared me!" the woman said, holding a hand to her heart. She smiled warmly at him, "How's it going, honey?"

Tears fell like waterfalls. Bruce rushed forward, grabbing hold of his mother. He felt her wrap her arms around his body, felt her protection slowly come over him. It was exactly like he remembered. He felt himself melt into her embrace.

"It's so nice you get to join us Bruce." His mother whispered stroking his head, "We all missed you so very much."

* * *

He took one breath.

Leslie stared down at the ground as she pulled the trigger, the pellets rushing upward into Bruce's cranium and ripping his head from the rest of his body. Blood and brain matter rained down on the girl from her position below her victim and she slowly stood up, staring at the corpse by her feet.

_I win._

Mr. Smith's voice echoed loudly over the empty playing field.

_"Wonderful, wonderful!" he gushed, "This season of The Program is officially over, clocking in at two days, 1 hour, 13 minutes and 17 seconds. That means that you have beaten the record by 24 minutes and 26 seconds! Congratulations, Leslie! You are this season's winner! Who would have guessed that the last contestant to enter the playing field would be the winner? Certainly not me, since my money was placed on Jeff…In any event, all the danger zones have been deactivated. Please return to the school and carry all your weapons in your duffel bag. The collar will remain on you as a precaution, of course. Once again, congratulations!"_

Leslie listened to the man speaking over the loudspeaker, but all she could do was curl into a little ball and sob uncontrollably.

* * *

"Standard procedure, I assure you." Leslie nodded while in a daze at Mr. Smith as he led her along a small hallway. He handed the duffel bag over to a soldier, telling him to check its contents before the two continued along. Mr. Smith led her into a small room and seated her on a small table.

"Just relax here for a moment, Leslie," Mr. Smith said as he wandered back over to the door, "A doctor will be in soon to tend to your wounds for the time being. After all, we don't need you to bleed to death before the big press exclusive! After that, you will be transported to the nearest hospital for the full treatment of your injuries – all of which will be covered by the government, of course." Mr. Smith smiled with delight. Leslie continued to stare off into space.

He'd seen enough winners to know they all acted the same way. They called it aftershock. The winning contestant found herself in a deep daze, like nothing was real at all. She'd wake up soon enough, most likely when the doctor checked her colon and vagina for concealed weapons.

"Sir, one grenade is missing!" a soldier suddenly appeared at the door. Mr. Smith cast a suspicious eye at Leslie. The girl had not reacted at all. She continued to stare straight ahead, her mouth slightly ajar. A small dribble of drool dripped from her bottom lip.

"Don't worry, boy," Mr. Smith addressed the soldier, "She doesn't appear to be much of a threat anymore."

The door was closed.

* * *

Lights flashed in her eyes and microphones were stabbed toward her face. The girl cringed as she was led through the crowd of reporters, the claustrophobic space making her uncomfortable. She walked over to the small stage where Mr. Smith was waiting for her with a big smile. She was wearing a shirt that was too big since her Kevlar vest had been confiscated. Leslie stumbled slightly on the stairs and some nearby soldiers helped her to her feet.

"That's a good girl," Mr. Smith smiled playfully, "Now go and sit down over there and look pretty. I'll answer all the questions for you."

Leslie lifted her head, staring up into the eyes of Mr. Smith. The act surprised him, but she rushed forward to the shock of everyone, wrapping Mr. Smith in a huge hug. The soldiers reacted like she was attacking, but Mr. Smith waved them off once he realized she had nothing dangerous. Besides, unbeknownst to anyone, Mr. Smith was wearing a protective suit underneath his actual clothes – one that prevented gunshots and blades. She couldn't hurt him even if she tried.

"Do you see how patriotic she is, everyone?" Mr. Smith beamed and cameras erupted in light. Leslie gazed up at him again, staring at him straight in the eye.

"Thank you." She whispered.

Leslie slowly walked across the stage and took the furthest seat away from him. Mr. Smith began his longwinded speech about all the contestants and the superb season they had given us. However, he was quickly interrupted by that season's winner.

She whistled shrilly and all heads turned toward her. She held up only one hand and from one finger a silver circle dangled loosely. She swung it back and forth, her smile becoming more and more seditious as each millisecond passed. Mr. Smith's suit suddenly felt heavy. He pressed his hands against his body, suddenly feeling a foreign object inside one of his pockets.

"Thank you." Leslie whispered again, just as the grenade went off. Pieces of Mr. Smith were rained down on everyone in the area. The swarm of reporters began to scream hysterically as innards dropped on them followed by a tsunami of blood. Some immediately vomited as the hot stench of blood rushed over them. Other scratched at their own flesh to remove the small pieces of Mr. Smith.

"You bitch!" one of the soldiers cried out and aimed a gun directly at her face.

"Are you really going to kill the winner of The Program in front of all these reporters?" Leslie asked coolly. The soldier faltered. "Don't you know anything? Do the words 'three day immunity' mean anything to you?"

The man's mouth dropped open. Leslie turned her attention away from the soldiers, watching the mayhem play out in front of her. It had been worth the risk. She'd hidden the grenade inside her panties, and had been fortunate enough to stash it in that examination room before the doctor entered to analyze her condition. It was a good thing too, since that doctor had practically ripped the clothes off Leslie's body before inspecting every orifice. After that was done, they'd tended to her wounds, cleaning and dressing the many injuries to her body. The blood loss had been their main concern. The wounds themselves would merely transform into scars that Leslie could remove with plastic surgery if she wanted.

She'd hidden the grenade and then retrieved it, waiting for the correct moment to use it. All those reporters knew what it was like now. They knew what it was like to watch someone die. To feel blood on their hands and to smell it deep in their nostrils. They recognized the sick feeling that rose in their stomachs and could now understand the terror of death. But more than anything, they knew that the battle was not over. The battle would never be over, until The Program was taken down.

_"Leslie, there's still so much out there for you to live through. There's still so much joy in the world that you deserve to experience. I want you to promise me that you will do whatever it takes to win The Program."_

_I kept my promise. And I intend to live for a long time. But there's a war going on. The Program is over for now, but there will be other battles, other survivors. If I've learned anything from you, it's that I have to listen to what I'm feeling. And right now…_

_"All of my friends are dead, and I will get revenge on the people who put them in this fucking playing field to begin with! It's all I have left!"_

_  
I may not have known many people who died in the last two days, but…I'm feeling…that they have not been done justice. I have my own purpose now. If for nothing else, I will take down The Program for stealing you away from me right after you came into my life. And I know you'll keep watching over me, Connor._

Leslie watched the pandemonium continue from her position in the middle of the stage. It would begin with her. Soon, they would all know what it was like to be a part of The Program. She would gain allies. She would fight. She would win!

The girl closed her eyes, letting the screams drift into nothingness. Instead, she placed herself back in the playing field. She sat on the beach, watching the sun glisten over the ocean water. She gazed off to the side, seeing his smiling face, watching the way the rays bounced off his eyes and illuminated even the smallest detail in his face.

A soft smile crept over her face as a single tear streaked down her face.

_…fucking game…_

Current danger zones: none

Pending danger zones: none

(1) Contestant remaining

GAME OVER.


	66. Extras

Well, here it is, a little over a year since I began this fanfic. Honestly, I don't think I understood what this piece of writing would force me to do when I began. If you look at my writing at the beginning as compared to the end, you will see a definite change. I started this story because I loved Battle Royale – the concept, the drama, the gore. And I wanted to create my own, using those criteria. And that's what I did. But I wasn't as concerned about the characters as I was when I ended. I found myself writing death scenes for these people and realizing that I didn't really care what happened to them. And if I didn't care, why would you? Towards the end of the first day, I made the death scenes more complicated, the fights more drawn out, the characters more thoughtful. This made the story tons more fun to write and hopefully more fun to read.

Well, I didn't plan on the story getting this long, and I think that I have the characters to blame for that. They urged me onward, forcing me to tell more of their back story, because I wanted to know it too.

I never expected Isaac and Gloria to last as long as they did – in fact, I never planned on them meeting up again. Isaac was supposed to die somewhere between the fourth and fifth announcements, but that didn't feel right. There was more to his character than what was portrayed, and I didn't want to kill him off until I had discovered what that was. He became a recurring character that developed from his one-dimensional horny teenager persona, to a multi-dimensional boy who wanted his father back in his life.

Jeff was my personal favorite character, and for a while, I considered making him the winner of The Program. After all, who expects the antagonist to triumph? But I decided against that idea. If he won The Program, then nothing would convince him that his ideas about people and pain were wrong. I wanted that character to experience a cleansing catharsis of his distrust, paranoia, and past experiences. Thus, Jeff needed to die. The problem with thinking and writing is that nothing ever comes out quite as good as it did in your head. Jeff's fight with Bruce seemed a lot more emotional in my mind than it appeared on the screen, and even though I was satisfied with how it came out, it's frustrating to think that maybe, it could have been better. This happened in many, MANY instances, the final battle, for example.

The group of girls (Taryn, Kim, Naomi, and April) surprised me a little with how they developed. When I first decided to throw Gloria in there to mix it up, I anticipated a bunch of underhanded sneaky murders as she slowly took the group down from the inside. I couldn't find a successful way of writing that, since it almost always ended up with Gloria looking suspicious. I also considered having Gloria kill all the girls at once with a few grenades, but that appeared more boring than them sitting and talking. I had their group split and die slowly so that we could compare these girls as they died to what they seemed like early on in the story. Naomi still remains one of my favorite death scenes.

The true tragedy of this story lies within the character of Bruce, who I was particularly disappointed with. Bruce was supposed to be the boy we could all empathize with – someone who desperately wanted to find the people he cared most about. I wanted people to experience this nightmare, trying to put themselves in his place and imagine what he must have felt. Whether I succeeded in this or not is not the issue. But rather, I felt Bruce was too underdeveloped. The scenes where this boy wasn't fighting all appeared interchangeable. All he talks about are his friends, and while that's realistic, I never talked about him. His character development came late in the story, perhaps too late. By that time, I'm sure you'd already made up your mind about the boy, and any interaction he had with Jeff or his father felt unnecessary. I'm upset I didn't do more with this character.

I considered making Carlos the main character of the story for a little while. I introduced him in the first chapter solely because of his weapon – knowledge. I liked the idea of someone having insider info on the other contestants, and it was fun referring back to Carlos to see which file he was reading. I found that I couldn't keep doing that because then Carlos would have little character development himself, not to mention his scenes becoming repetitive. But I really enjoyed writing his scenes once the boy ventured back into the playing field, and even though I decided to make him play just for an impressive death scene, it would have been really interesting to see how far he could take that personal information and maybe claim the victory.

Leslie, the winner of The Program, wasn't even a character in this story until the first set of announcements. I decided that I didn't like Bruce being the only person with fighting skills. I wanted someone else to throw in there who knew how to fight, but someone completely different than Bruce. Thus, Leslie was born. I created a personality for her and then a back story to explain it. Connor was merely a tool I used to help show some change within the girl, plus a means of explaining her past. I saw their scenes as slightly repetitive, but necessary for character development. And I certainly wanted a well developed winner of Battle Royale.

Speaking of the winner, I had not decided on a way to end this story until very late in its progression. I knew I wanted a definite winner, and I wanted that winner to do what I had Leslie perform – the hidden grenade trick. But as to whom that was – I was very unsure for a while. Bruce seemed too cliché of a winner, although his transformation in the last few chapters makes it slightly better. I didn't want Jeff to win. Ariana seemed like a good choice for a while, and so did Minh. Gloria would have been fun to write, or maybe Kim or Paul. But eventually, I settled on Leslie. Why did I have her win? I'm still not sure myself. To me, it felt…right. I was satisfied with the ending, knowing that she would continue the fight. It wasn't so far out there that everyone was confused, but this result hadn't been the obvious choice from early on either.

Well, I guess that's enough rambling on my part. If you have questions, you can always leave me a message or a review or whatever. I hope this part hasn't been completely painful to read through, if there any of you out there. It's a good thing we have a hit counter when we log in under the stats, or else I'd be completely convinced that no one has been reading my story. But anyways, I hope I've increased the fandom those who like Battle Royale as much as I do.

Later.

* * *

**Stats: **(not including this chapter)

Began: 9/14/05

Ended: 9/18/06

Chapters: 65

Longest Chapter: chapter 54: Announcements part 7 – 5932 words

Shortest Chapter: chapter 28: Official Update - 964 words

Words: 240,090

Game Time: 2 days, 1 hour, 9 minutes, 31 seconds

Winner: Girl #25 – Leslie

First Elimination: Girl #7 – Donna

Final Elimination: Boy #23 – Bruce

Most Kills: 1st place: Boy #22 – Jeff; 13 kills

2nd place: Girl #18 – Ariana; 7 kills

3rd place: tie: Boy #16 – Isaac, Boy #21 – Paul, Girl #22 – Gloria, Girl #25 – Leslie; 4 kills

Most used weapon: dagger – designated weapon of Salvador; traded to Luna for the revolver; given to Janelle for protection; stolen by Isaac and used to kill Janelle; returned to Luna for suspicion; traded to TJ for the taser; stolen by Sid and used to kill Salvador; used by Sid until damaged by Jeff and dagger stolen by Minh; given to Nathan; stolen by Ariana and used to kill Nathan; possessed by Ariana until her death.

* * *

**Survey:** (fill this out and send it back to me or post in the review section if you want, just so I can have some feedback)

1)Which character(s) did you like the most and why?

2)Which character(s) did you like the least and why?

3)Which character(s) do you feel could have used more development?

4)What weapon did you like the most?

5)Which death scene(s) was your favorite and why?

6)Which death scene(s) did you like the least and why?

7)Were there any inconsistencies that you noticed in the making of this fanfic?

8)What did you think about the speed of the story – did things happen too quickly or too slowly?

9)What was the most predictable turn of events?

10)What caught you by surprise?

11)Who was your favorite couple?

12)Which character do you most resemble?

13)Which characters would you have liked to see fight?

14)What name was your favorite?

15)If you could rewrite the story, who would you have made won?

* * *

**Outtakes:**

In the dead silence of the woods, frantic voices slowly rose. Three figures were all standing in a circle with worried glances on their faces. In the center, another figure laid sprawled out on the ground in an awkward position. Its eyes were wide open in shock and its feathers were ruffled. Its beak was slightly cracked, but the most noticeable feature was the large hole in the middle of its neck. Cocoa Puffs lied strewn about on the ground.

"He did it!" A large white bunny raised a finger and pointed it at another figure standing near him, "He was going to kill me too!"

"He's lying!" a small man dressed entirely in green replied in an Irish accent, the four leaf clover bobbled on the top of his hat.

"Quiet!" a large bumble bee hissed, pointing his pistol at one and then frantically pointing it at the other.

"Quick, he'll kill us all!" the rabbit cried out.

"No one will catch me lucky charms!" the small man pulled out a concealed revolver and took aim. The bee fired and hit the leprechaun in the gut and then another in the upper chest. The small man raised his arm despite the pain and fired off two shots of his own, one shooting off one of the bee's antennae. The other sailed into the bee's eye, exploding out the other side of his head. The two bodies fell down dead as the white rabbit looked at them both in shock. He giggled slightly and pulled out a red box.

"Finally! I can have raspberry red, lemony yellow, and wild berry blue!"

Another shot rang out and the once white rabbit was sprayed with red as he fell over in a dead heap. Paul (Boy #21) emerged from the woods flashing his trademark smile and knelt down, picking up the red box. He reached his hand inside and popped a few pieces of food in his mouth.

"Silly rabbit," he smirked, "Trix are for kids."

* * *

"She…she died?" Bonnie uttered.

The scythe flew at her, cutting deep into her stomach. She cried out and yanked herself away, sprawling out on the ground, her blood running free. She glanced back and saw that the scythe was attached to something – an arm. And the arm was attached to a body. Jeff (Boy #22) stood in front of her, slowly walking toward her as fresh blood dripped from his weapon.

"Get away!" she cried out and tried to stand. He lashed out with his curved blade, sinking it deep into one of Bonnie's calves. She screamed in pain and stumbled on the ground, now too injured to stand. He tried crawling away but Jeff jumped on her back, causing all the air to be ripped from her lungs. She coughed and sputtered and clutched her bleeding gut. He took a step back off her body and she rolled onto her back, staring up at his face through fogged up glasses.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The boy stepped back as Bonnie suddenly began floating in the air. She reached into her sleeve and pulled out a long slender stick and a lightning shaped scar appeared on her forehead. Jeff blinked in confusion and turned his head slightly. Bonnie pointed her wand at him and began to speak when suddenly a flash of green light appeared from the side, hitting her in the chest. She collapsed to the ground, no longer breathing. The boy glanced to his side and was surprised to see a thin figure standing off to the side. His eyes were sunken deep into his face and his head completely shaved.

"Finally, the last mudblood is dead!" he hissed through fangs, "Now I can finally attack the wizarding world and reclaim my rightful place as the leader of the purebloods! Soon everyone will fear my name! I AM LORD VOLD-" The hand scythe struck right between his fierce eyes. Jeff pulled the scythe out and wiped the green blood off of it before shrugging his shoulders in indifference and venturing back into the forest.

* * *

Isaac (Boy #16) deftly moved through the dense forest. He clutched his katana in his hand and pushed back some foliage.

Suddenly, from his side, Leslie (Girl # 25) emerged from behind a tree. She ran straight at Isaac from his blind spot. He turned to face her, but it was too late.

She swiftly swung her leg up connecting with Isaac's groin and sent him flying backwards. Leslie then ran off giggling like mad. Isaac's eyes watered while he lay on the ground.

"AHHH! DAMN IT! I'LL KILL YOU!"

* * *

"If you thought that the neck collar detector would be able to save you, you were very much mistaken. That contraption is designed to ONLY receive signals to prevent someone from doing exactly what you hoped to do."

"But…then…it was…hopeless?"

"If there was some way to escape from The Program," Ariana (Girl #18) pointed the gun at Genevive's face, "Don't you think I would have found it out by now?"

Genevive (Girl #21) said nothing but stared at the girl before her.

"You never even stood a chance." Ariana pulled the trigger and was shocked when a steady stream of water shot out of the end. The water dribbled forward and sprayed Genevive in the face, hitting her in the forehead and the cheek. Ariana blinked at the girl before her as she examined the gun in her hand.

Genevive began to cry out as the water began to fizzle on her skin. "Oh no!" Genevive screamed, "Not water! I'm melting! I'll still get you my pretty and your little dog too! Oh what a world, what a world!"

Ariana watched as Genevive shrank before her eyes and smoke rose up into the air. Genevive's clothes soon lay on the ground, her body completely melted away. Ariana pulled out her map and wrote down a few notes before placing the map back into her duffel bag, completely perplexed. She shrugged and disappeared into the forest.

* * *

Carlos (Boy #3) walked down the street toward his home. He hummed to himself as he continued along.

"Hey there." A voice stopped him. Carlos looked to his side and there they all stood, lurking in the darkness of the alley from the setting sun. The leader stepped out first, and Carlos' mouth opened in shock.

Salvador (Boy #17) snapped his fingers and he hunched over slightly and strutted forward. Alex (Boy #7) and TJ (Boy #12) were the next ones out, following their leader's lead and snapping their fingers in a similar fashion. The girls were the next ones who emerged from the shadows, and Luna (Girl #5) and Janelle (Girl #10) snapped their fingers along with everyone else as they enticingly swiveled their hips. Sid (Boy #14) was the last boy to appear from the darkness, bringing up the rear with his large frame.

In perfect choreography, the gang lifted up their left leg and then danced off to the right. The girls spun up to the front, their skirts spiraling around them. They kicked up one knee before falling to the rear as TJ and Alex took center stage. They hopped slightly, landing on their back leg and then grabbed each other's arm and moved in a circle. From the back, Salvador had moved right in front of Sid, and the larger boy grabbed his leader, launching him upward. Salvador flipped in the air and landed in the front of his gang. He initiated the final dance sequence, leading them in perfect, gliding motions. However, suddenly, Alex topped forward, falling into Salvador and knocking them both down.

"Hold it!" Salvador cried out and the kids froze in the middle of their routine, staring down at the two boys on the ground. Salvador climbed to his feet and sighed in frustration, "How many times have I explained it to you Alex? It's step, kick, step, barrel roll, spin, jazz hands, and THEN kick. We've been working on this routine for two weeks now! Now, we're gonna work on this routine again and again until we GET IT RIGHT! Okay, so let's go back to the second part, starting with Luna and Janelle. Girls, your part was a little weak, now watch me. Spin, and then-"

Carlos quietly walked away.

* * *

"I'm…I'm s-sorry…" she whispered as tears formed in her own eyes. She smiled weakly, but it was still the same warm smile Larry (Boy #9) had fallen in love with. "You…never did beat…me…in gin." She giggled and then abruptly stopped, no longer able to do so. Larry saw the end of the scythe protruding from her neck, the blood pouring from the open wound and on to his face. He watched the life drain from her eyes as she struggled to say one last thing. He read her lips as she tried to speak.

_I'm…sorry. What else could I have done?_

Her vision fading, Lauren (Girl #16) stared into the eyes of the love of her life. She saw the pain in his eyes, and wished she could do anything to relieve him of it. But she was dying, and she knew it. But for some reason, it didn't hurt nearly as much as she thought it would.

_I'll never play. They'll never make me play._

She stared at him, feeling the blade cutting into her again, but feeling no pain whatsoever. Things were becoming blurry and dark, but she managed two more words before she collapsed.

"Breath mint."

Larry frowned as his girlfriend died on top of him and he reached a hand to his face. He breathed into his cupped hand and then sniffed it, pulling his face away in disgust. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slender white cylinder. He opened one end and then popped a small white orb into his mouth, chewing it happily.

"Mmmmm…Mentos, the Freshmaker!"

The scythe was buried deep into his forehead.

* * *

Joshua (Boy #1) stumbled out of the school building. The dark ominous forest surrounded him on all sides. The bright moon shone down on him and cast eerie shadows every which way. He was the first one into the playing field, and while that was maybe a good thing, it meant that in two minutes, someone else was going to walk out that door. And maybe that person would be aiming for Joshua's head.

He took a few steps forward and then decided that he should know where he was going first. He pulled out his map and was surprised as to how well he could read it. He looked up to the moonlight and was shocked to see something else in the sky as well. It appeared like some giant flaming orb was headed straight for him. When he saw that the fireball was getting larger, Joshua took off into the forest and turned in time to see the meteor hit the school.

The entire school erupted in flame as many voices cried out in the night. A few soldiers that were positioned close to the exit ran about screeching, completely ablaze. Joshua watched in shock as the fire ate away at the structure and soon, nothing could be seen at all. Stepping back into the clearing, Joshua realized that he was the only one alive in the playing field.

"Well, that was easy." He shrugged.

A nearby tree that was weakened by the space blast, suddenly toppled over, landing on top of Joshua and killing him instantly.

* * *

Isaac (Boy #16) sat alone in one of the abandoned houses. He cradled his wrapped left hand and his thoughts drifted to that girl who had helped him. He wondered when she would die, since Isaac could see absolutely no way that she would survive until the end.

A soft noise elsewhere in the house caused Isaac to jump. He sneered and stood, gripping his katana in his good hand. He walked over to the doorway and peered out into the hallway. He couldn't see anyone, but he was positive someone was in the domicile with him. Isaac stepped cautiously into the darkened hallway. He took a few steps, carefully listening for the intruder. A noise behind him caused him to spin around and gasp.

Leslie (Girl #25) let out a cry and launched her foot straight into Isaac's groin. The pain registered immediately, and he thrust both hands to his manhood as his knees buckled. Leslie calmly walked right past him giggling as he collapsed and writhed on the ground.

"FUCK! NOT AGAIN! YOU ARE DEAD THE NEXT TIME I SEE YOU!"

* * *

Jeff (Boy #22) made his way through the forest region. He hadn't expected it to take him this long to go to where he needed to go, but he was in no rush. Sooner or later, they'd all feel his pain. But loose ends did make him feel anxious. He didn't worry too much about that, however, since he didn't anticipate any problems.

The boy suddenly froze where he stood, tightly gripping the semi automatic in one hand and grasping the scythe from his pocket with the other. He glanced to his right first, seeing no movement except that caused by the rain. Jeff spun to his left, expecting to see someone standing there, but again the space was empty. A confused look crossed his face momentarily before it was replaced with his traditional apathetic stare. He glanced behind him but again saw nothing but the rain. He carefully placed the scythe back into his pocket, the curved blade facing away from him. He was sure he'd heard-

Without warning, a Japanese boy descended from the sky, firing a sub-machine gun directly at Jeff. The boy dodged out of the way and the bullets splashed at the ground where he had been standing. Kazuo Kiriyama gazed around with flat lifeless eyes, gazing for his attempted victim. The strike came from his side, the sharp blade of the scythe cutting into Kazuo's hand and knocking the gun away from him. Jeff fired his semi automatic twice, but the Japanese boy inhumanly dodged the bullets, jumping up and hitting Jeff in the face before knocking away his gun as well. Jeff responded by jumping up and kicking out and striking Kazuo in the throat before landing and sweeping the boy's feet from beneath him.

Kazuo flipped backwards dodging Jeff's sweep and prepared to strike again. While low to the ground, Jeff reached into his sock and pulled out the switchblade, fluidly snapping it open and rushing at his attacker. Meanwhile, Kazuo produced another gun from somewhere hidden on his body. The two boys froze three inches away from each other. Jeff held the switchblade at Kazuo's throat while the Japanese boy had the gun placed up against Jeff's forehead. The standoff continued for a moment.

"Back off." Jeff sneered, "I'm the villain of this story. Go find your own."

Kazuo shrugged and lowered the gun, running off into the forest. Jeff collected his things and continued on his way.

* * *

"Come on gang, this way!" Salvador (Boy #17) said as he brushed back some of his blonde hair and fixed his ascot.

"Jeepers, Sal," Luna (Girl #5) walked up behind him, fixing the orange hair that fell around her face and straightening her small purple skirt, "This place sure is creepy."

"It's a lot better than that old haunted mill we were at earlier." Janelle (Girl #10) appeared next in a modest yellow and red outfit and a masculine haircut around her face. She adjusted her glasses as she glanced around in the darkness.

"Like, yeah man." TJ (Boy #12) walked out next, looking unhealthily thin and with a baggy green shirt and tan bellbottoms, "But why, man, are we, like, stuck in this forest? Like, why can't we go find something to eat, you with me Sid?"

Sid (Boy #14) walked out on his hands and feet, his body covered in brown fur and a long tail emerging from his behind. "Reah, Ri'm Rungry!"

Suddenly, a large green man emerged from the forest, hunched over in an awkward position and sporting an awful 1970s haircut. He grunted softly once, to get the attention of the kids in front of him, and then groaned louder as he approached them.

"Jinkies! It's the Creeper!" Janelle cried out.

"Let's book it, gang!" Salvador called out and the troupe ran off into the forest. The Creeper groaned once more and then when it was sure the group was gone, he chuckled and raised his hands to his face. He pulled up and the mask came off, revealing a grinning Isaac (Boy #16).

"Meddling kids."

* * *

Jeff (Boy #22) glanced around Bruce's living room, an uncharacteristic smirk on his face. They were all around him in one place or another, laughing loudly or yelling for no particular reason. Jeff had decided to refrain from drinking, since it was not in his nature to lose control over himself. But he was having as much fun as the others despite his normal blood alcohol level. Slowly, Molly (Girl #9) wandered over.

"I don't know if you knew this," she began and Jeff turned to look at her as she talked, "But about two months ago I had this really bad rash right on the flaps of my vagina. It was always really itchy and when I'd scratch down there, I'd have to look around me to make sure that no one was looking." She took a long gulp of beer. "And this one time, some guy in class saw me scratch my pussy, and he totally thought I was touching myself right there in class. He started laughing and whispering with his friends, it was really embarrassing. So to ensure that that didn't happen anymore, I bought this soothing cream. The only problem was that it didn't always get rid of all the itching, and it smelled like menthol leaves too. So if the need arose, I'd spread my legs to scratch my vagina and suddenly the whole room smelled like the lotion. It's a good thing nobody every figured out where that smell was coming from."

Molly looked at Jeff, whose face was twisted into an expression of disgust and horror. She took another long sip and then faced him.

"You don't believe me? I'm still using the ointment. Go ahead, Jeff, smell my vagina."

Jeff turned his head and vomited all over the floor.

* * *

Corey (Boy #15) stood completely defenseless in the middle of a clearing, slowly glancing at the large amount of people surrounding him. Salvador (Boy #17) and the rest of his gang flanked the small boy's left side. Isaac (Boy #16) and Gloria (Girl #22) stood off to his right. Directly behind him stood Paul (Boy #21) and beside him stood Ariana (Girl #18), striking a seductive pose. And finally, directly in front of the small boy stood Jeff (Boy #22), sinisterly spinning his scythe.

"Get him!" someone cried out and all the killers surged at the boy. Corey fluidly slipped to the side as Paul was the first to reach him from behind. The small boy reached a hand out and grabbed hold of Paul's arm, spinning him to the side just as Salvador fired his revolver. The bullet ripped straight through Paul's head instead of its intended target. Corey grabbed the hunting knife from Paul's dead hands before he fell and flung it out, sinking it deep into Salvador's eye.

Again, Corey dodged to the side as Isaac's katana soared right past him and into Paul's corpse instead. The small boy lifted his foot and kicked back into Isaac's gut. He grabbed the sword from his attacker and spun away from a swipe from Gloria's machete, swinging the sword as he went, effectively slicing the girl's head clean from her shoulders.

"Gloria!" Isaac cried out before Corey thrust the sword forward directly between Isaac's eyes – killing him instantly. Corey quickly bent down and grabbed the two grenades from Gloria's body before pulling one of the pins. He easily dodged the scythe attacks from Jeff and then the blows from Ariana's tire iron. He kicked the girl to the ground and quickly stuck the active grenade up her skirt and into her womanhood. Corey jumped away, just as the grenade went off, blowing Ariana to smithereens.

Corey pulled the other pin from the grenade and tossed it at Salvador's gang as they charged him. They all suddenly scattered as the grenade landed directly before them, except for Sid (Boy #15) who expected his shield to protect him. He was, of course, wrong, and shrapnel from the blast ripped through his throat. His shield went flying from the blast and severed Luna's (Girl #5) head as it flew through her.

Janelle (Girl #10) flew to her leader's corpse and grabbed hold of the revolver, firing it at the small boy. Corey rolled out of the way and toward TJ (Boy # 12), who swung down at him with a dagger. Corey reached out and gripped the boy's testicles in his fist through his pants. He squeezed with unforeseen power and both testis popped, leaving TJ writhing on the ground in pain. Corey gripped the dagger and slit TJ's throat as he stood up. Janelle fired the revolver again and Corey deflected the bullets with the dagger, firing them directly back at Janelle and driving them directly into her heart, killing her instantly.

Corey raced over at her and reached the dead girl before she had time to fall. He grabbed the revolver from her hand and spun in just enough time to face the last remaining person in his midst. Jeff froze, his scythe high above his head as he stared down at Corey who held the gun at his face.

"I know what you're thinking." Corey smirked, "You're wondering if this gun has any more bullets in it. Did that dead bitch shoot six times, or was it five? Well, to tell you the truth I've lost count myself. So you gotta ask yourself, do you feel lucky, punk?"

Jeff smiled wickedly and slashed down with the scythe. Corey pulled the trigger and the last remaining bullet ripped straight through Jeff's head, taking a good chunk of his brain with it. Corey stood and glanced at the many dead bodies surrounding him. He raised his face to the sky and let out a loud roar.

"WHO ELSE WANTS SOME!"

* * *

"Despite the many wounds to her body, we found no bullet holes, and therefore, the revolver could be rules out as a weapon, as well as the person who was carrying it – you Colonel Mustard."

Salvador (Boy #17) held up the gun and winked from behind his monocle. He straightened out his yellow clothes and prepared himself to listen to the rest of the speech.

"Even though there was some damage to the girl's throat, it is clear that the cause of death was not caused by asphyxiation, and therefore the rope is ruled out too. That puts you in the clear Professor Plum."

"I don't even know why I'm here." Peter (Boy #10) exclaimed from behind round rimmed glasses. The purple suit he wore was very slimming and in his hands he carried many books full of knowledge, "I was no where near the murder when it occurred. I don't even know half you people."

"Yes…well…the major damage done to the body was by some form of blade. The only weapon that does not eliminate is the dagger."

Amy (Girl #13) gripped the wrench in her hands and sighed in relief. She straightened out her maid's uniform and glanced around at the other people present in the room.

"And it just so happens that the person holding that weapon was in the same room as the victim! That's right, everyone, I have solved Janelle's (Girl #10) murder!" TJ (Boy #12) smiled smugly in his long overcoat. His magnifying glass was up near his face like he was posing for some photograph that someone was taking somewhere and on his head resting a Sherlock Holmes detective hat.

"It was you, Miss Scarlet, with the knife in the Conservatory!"

"No!" Luna (Girl #5) cried out in protest, her crimson dress provocatively swirling around her, "You're wrong! The dagger was stolen from me! I didn't kill Janelle!"

"A likely story." TJ smirked, "Take her away boys."

Two men dressed in old fashioned police officers uniforms quickly entered the room and grabbed hold of the girl's arms. They dragged her from the room as she continued to protest to the accusation. In the corner, a boy dressed in an ugly green suit and olive colored pants glanced as Luna was taken from the room.

"Heh heh heh." Isaac (Boy #16) chuckled to himself.

* * *

Jeff (Boy #22) glanced around Bruce's living room, an uncharacteristic smirk on his face. They were all around him in one place or another, laughing loudly or yelling for no particular reason. Jeff had decided to refrain from drinking, since it was not in his nature to lose control over himself. But he was having as much fun as the others despite his normal blood alcohol level. Slowly, Genevive (Girl #21) wandered over.

"I'm a bad person." The girl smiled coyly, the beer nearly tumbling from her hand. "Want to know why?"

Jeff opened his mouth to refuse any such knowledge.

"I'm not a virgin," Genevive gushed, "And before you say it, no, that's not why I'm a bad person."

She took a long swig of beer that she clearly didn't need.

"The night I lost my virginity, I passed out next to the guy I fucked. And eventually I wake up, and I see he's passed out too. But then I notice that during my unconscious state, I accidentally shit the bed."

Jeff pushed back the urge to vomit and tried to move away from the girl. She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back, continuing her story.

"So, I realize I'm in a difficult situation. I'm still too drunk to clean my mess without waking him up and I can't just leave it there! So I smear some of my shit on his ass, and I leave a note telling him that he's disgusting for shitting in his sleep. And then I leave."

Jeff looked around and grabbed a lamp sitting on a nearby table. He hit himself in the head repeatedly until he collapsed to the ground in a dead heap.

"That's why I'm a bad person." Genevive slurred before passing out and collapsing to the floor, her underwear suddenly filling itself with feces.

* * *

Isaac (Boy #16) wasn't sure he was hearing things correctly for a moment, since it sounded as though footsteps were approaching him somewhere, but when the sounds gradually became louder, his body tensed up. Someone was coming near him. He carefully sat up from the ground, crouching low on the ground. The footsteps got even louder and he realized that some one was walking on the sidewalk that crossed in front of the alley he was in. Someone was about to walk right past him. He pictured his plan his mind very quickly – it was very simple. He'd wait for the person to appear in front of him, and then he'd tackle them, using what remained of his strength to grab their weapon and then depending on what it was, take them down or run off.

The footsteps roared over the silence of the area and he held his breath as a figure appeared before him. With a cry, Isaac launched himself out and grabbed hold of the small figure, bringing them both to the ground. A feminine gasp was heard and Isaac's eyes settled on the person beneath him.

"Isaac!" Gloria's (Girl #22) eyes widened from below him and suddenly she pulled him toward her, wrapping him in a fierce kiss. Suddenly, without warning, Gloria's knee rushed upwards directly into Isaac's groin. His eyes watered over immediately and the air rushed from his lungs as an all too familiar knot formed in his stomach. He dropped to the ground and stared up at Gloria towering over him.

Leslie (Girl #25) reached down and pulled off her "Gloria" mask, giggling like mad. "Too easy." She smirked before tossing the mask at his feet.

"YOU STUPID BITCH! GOD DAMN IT! I'LL KILL YOU! YOU HEAR ME? YOU'RE DEAD!"

* * *

"It's a good thing I'm not playing." Lauren (Girl #16) said as she looked over at her boyfriend.

"Why's that?" Larry (Boy #9) asked in return. The girl reached into her bag and pulled a tiny object from it.

"This is my weapon." She held up the rubber band. Larry snickered as he stared at it. "I mean, come on!" Lauren continued, "How the hell could anyone possibly win with this weapon? It's completely useless!"

Larry nodded as Lauren continued to fiddle with the item. She hooked one end around her thumb and pulled the other back, stretching the rubber band against her hand.

"How could I even hurt someone with this?" The end around her thumb accidentally slipped from her digit, and sent the rubber band flying backwards and hit the girl in the eye.

"Ahh! I'm blind!"

* * *

Leslie (Girl #25) glanced at her companion.

Connor (Boy #4) stared back at her with a wide smile on his face. The front of his pants extended a good foot out in front of him pointing straight ahead of them.

Leslie stared.

Connor smiled.

Leslie stared.

Connor smiled.

Leslie stared.

Connor smiled.

Leslie stared.

Connor smiled.

Leslie stared.

Connor smiled.

Leslie stared.

Connor smiled.

Leslie stared.

Connor smiled.

Leslie stared.

Connor smiled.

Leslie stared.

Connor smiled.

"………" Leslie sighed, "Connor, where is that hammer I asked you to hold for me?"

Connor placed both hands on his hips, smiling widely, and subtly thrust his lower torso forward. "Guess where I put it."

* * *

Jeff (Boy #22) glanced around Bruce's living room, an uncharacteristic smirk on his face. They were all around him in one place or another, laughing loudly or yelling for no particular reason. Jeff had decided to refrain from drinking, since it was not in his nature to lose control over himself. But he was having as much fun as the others despite his normal blood alcohol level. Slowly, Derek (Boy #2) wandered over.

"So," Derek began after belching, "Whenever I masturbate, there's always this scene that I play over inside my head. I thought it was from a porno I'd seen at some point, where the guy's doing the girl from behind, you know, doggie style." He took a swig of beer, "Anyways, playing that scene over and over in my head really got me going, if you know what I mean." He glanced down, "See, I'm starting to get an erection already."

Jeff refrained from glancing down and took an uncomfortable step backwards.

"Anyways, so I'm talking to my therapist the other day. And somehow this topic gets brought up. Personally, I think my therapist's got a little crush on me, and the thought of me touching myself gets her off too. Anyways, she seemed slightly concerned about where the image of the two people having nasty sex came from." Derek burped and gulped down the rest of the beer and then placed the can down on a nearby table. "Oh, that's right, I didn't tell you the whole image. Well, you see, the guy eventually pulls out and-"

Jeff held up his hand to signal Derek to stop, and the boy shrugged only slightly understanding why Jeff didn't want to hear more.

"Anyways, the end of my session with the therapist results in me discovering that the two people are my parents, and the image is from a memory I have from walking in on them."

Jeff's mouth dropped and disgusting mental images flooded his mind. He closed his eyes and tried to remove the image of Derek's parents getting it on, but his mind's eye refused to comply.

"Jeff," Derek said, looking the boy straight in the eye, "Is it weird that the image of my parents having sex still gets me aroused?"

Jeff walked away.

* * *

Amy (Girl #13) reached over for the Uzi and was shocked to see a flash of metal and suddenly her hand was no longer attached to her arm. The pain registered after a moment, and then she screamed as the blood gushed from the stump where her hand used to be. She gazed up at the figure that loomed over her.

"Nice gun." Gloria (Girl #22) smirked as she gripped her blood stained machete in her hand. Before Amy could even scream, Gloria raised the machete and swung it down, aiming for Amy's brain. Summoning strength, the injured girl swung the wrench and knocked the machete off its path. Another quick strike with the heavy object connected with Gloria's chin and sent her backwards.

Amy climbed to her feet, blood gushing from where her right hand used to be. She gripped the wrench in her left, feeling its heft and breathing heavily. Blood soaked her from the rapid fire bullets that had ripped through her body. She glanced down at the Uzi and considered dropping the wrench to pick up the powerful gun, but she was no longer given the choice as Gloria rushed her.

Gloria swung down as Amy raised her remaining arm in defense. The machete struck at Amy's wrist, severing her other hand from her body. The monkey wrench still gripped by the dead hand clattered to the ground. Amy stared at up Gloria as she prepared to make her final strike.

"Look, Mom. No hands!"

* * *

Mitchell (Boy #24) was completely caught in the moment, solely focusing on Matt (Boy #20).

_This is my chance!_

Ariana (Girl #18) slowly slipped behind Mitchell and grasping her ice pick, lifted it and jabbed deep into the back of his neck. Matt gasped from where he stood as Mitchell cried out and began gurgling on the blood gathering in his throat. Moving quickly, Ariana moved to Mitchell's side and struck the arm that held the gun, knocking the weapon to the ground. She swung her arm back, connecting the tire iron to Mitchell's face and sending him sprawling to the ground. Ariana quickly knelt and grabbed the gun, fully appreciating the hunk of metal in her hand. She glanced over at Matt who had taken off. She aimed and fired a shot, nailing Matt in the small of the back. He cried out and fell to the ground. Ariana smirked and turned her attention on the boy squirming on the ground as he pulled out the ice pick from his neck. He coughed up blood and began breathing heavier. He looked up as Ariana loomed over him, the gun pointed at his head.

Two giant red words suddenly appeared over their heads and deep male voice spoke them aloud.

"FINISH HIM!"

Ariana threw a few quick punches and kicks into the open air as the code was entered and then the background darkened. She brought her hand to her lips and kissed it, then pulled it away and blew the kiss towards Mitchell. A small orb of light lifted off her hand and did a loop in the air before landing on Mitchell's face. The boy's body immediately ignited and Mitchell managed one final scream before his scarred skeleton lay in pieces on the ground. The deep voice spoke once again as Ariana struck a provocative pose.

"Ariana Wins! Flawless Victory!"

A hesitation as the final word appeared, dripping blood onto the ground.

"FATALITY!"

* * *

A quick chortle echoed through the empty air and Jeff (Boy #22) held his scythe at the ready. He carefully began to move in a circle, doing his best to determine where the laugh had come from.

"Pikachu, I choose you!"

A sphere came from no where and smacked the side of the killer's temple before dropping to the ground. Jeff hissed with pain as he glanced at the red and white ball before him before it snapped open and a white light shot out. The light swirled in the air and slowly began to take form. The light died down to reveal a small furry yellow rodent with two pink cheeks sitting on the ground before Jeff.

"Go, Pikachu! Thundershock!"

Jeff immediately understood where the voice was coming from and he steadily lifted his eyes upward. High above him, a figure stood perched on a branch. Jeff stared at him with a sense of confusion for a moment, noticing that the figure appeared to be wearing…underwear on his head.

"PIKA!" the creature cried out and electricity rushed forward surging through Jeff's body. Smoke rose from his curled figure as the shock finally ceased, and the killer looked up at Matt (Boy #20) with rage in his eyes.

"Go, Pidgey!" Jeff called out and tossed a similar ball, the light emitted taking form into a tiny bird.

"You idiot!" Matt laughed from his treetop, "Flying types are weak against electric types! Pikachu, Thunder attack!"

"Pidgey, blind Pikachu with your Sand Storm." The tiny bird flapped its small wings with surprising strength, and the wet ground flew forward, slipping into the electric rodent's small eyes. It cried out and Matt gasped from his tree top.

"Pikachu, return!" Matt called and the small creature disappeared in a beam of red light. Matt reached behind him to pull out a similar ball, but Jeff spoke again.

"Hyper beam." Pidgey opened its tiny mouth and a huge laser of energy shot forward, connecting with Matt's chest and knocking him to the ground. The boy rubbed the soreness in his head and looked up to see Jeff looming over him. The killer raised the gun and fired a single shot through Matt's head. The body toppled over to one side.

"Return, Pidgey." Jeff remarked and the bird was gone in a red light. He began to slowly walk away.

"Gotta catch 'em all."

* * *

Gloria (Girl #22) gasped.

"What?" Kim (Girl #17) rushed forward grabbing the paper and glaring at Gloria.

"Yeah," Carlos (Boy #3) continued and pulled out another piece of paper, "The grenades were the weapon of another girl, Girl #4 – Cassie."

The air rushed out of everyone's lungs. They all stared down at Carlos and the papers he held and the over at Gloria. She tossed something over at the group and Taryn (Girl #3) dropped her nun chucks to catch it. They watched as Gloria hissed at them with an evil smile, "MEEP MEEP!"

And she took off, a cloud of smoke following her path.

Kim glanced over at Taryn who held a large black orb with a flaming wick protruding from the inside. "Sufferin' suckatash!" she cried out and dived aside. April (Girl #15) cried out and ran behind a tree, tugging Naomi (Girl #11) with her. Carlos cursed out loud and took off in the opposite direction, leaving all the girls behind him. They had all taken shelter except Taryn whose eyes welled with tears. She glanced down at the grenade in her grasp and looked up at the vanishing figure of Gloria.

**BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!**

The smoke cleared to reveal Taryn standing in the middle of singed earth. Her body was covered with soot and her hair stood on end like some force had pushed it back. She shook herself and all the soot fell away, leaving Taryn looking as healthy as ever. She reached behind her back and from nowhere produced a shotgun and a large hunting hat that she placed on her head. She crept forward a few steps then glanced to the side and placed a finger to her lips, shushing an imaginary audience.

"Be vewy vewy quiet! I'm hunting wabbits!"

* * *

Ariana (Girl #18) looked around, and saw more familiar faces. A roar from the center of the frozen pond echoed over the flat surface. The girl turned and saw a massive beast stuck in the ice. It beats its wings ferociously as it attempted to escape the ice. The girl moved a little closer, noticing that the monster had three vicious heads. The middle head was completely shaved, while the one on the right had plenty of black hair around its head in a bowl shape. The one on the left was balding, but had red hair around the edge.

"Look boys!" the middle one said pointing at Ariana, "A little doll for us to play with!"

The one on the right swung up and smacked the middle one on the back of the head.

"Quiet down you knuckle head!"

The one in the middle raised two fingers, and sticking them into the eyes of the one on the right. The one on the right swung a punch and slapped the one of the left by accident.

"Nyuk, nyuk!" the middle one laughed loudly before getting punched on both sides.

"Hey!" a man ran from another side of the frozen lake. Ariana turned her head, as did the three heads of the demon.

"What about me?" the man asked, frowning comically.

The three heads all glanced at each other, and then stared down when a gunshot rang over the ice lake.

"Nobody likes Shemp, dumbass!" Ariana said as the man toppled over in a dead heap.

* * *

Nathan (Boy #19) allowed a sense of relief to wash over him. The name he had been listening for hadn't been spoken.

_Still alive. Good, continue to stay alive. Run if you need to. Just stay alive until I can find you._

Nathan gripped his bleeding shoulder and winced. The open wound hadn't stopped bleeding since the nail had been plunged into it, and Nathan was beginning to feel a little dizzy. He wasn't exactly sure what he had to do to stop the bleeding, and so he had hoped it would stop on its own. But that was not the case, and Nathan was beginning to feel weak. He didn't even bother to lift his head as people wandered into his midst.

"Oh, God." Lauren (Girl #16) whispered as she drifted over to Nathan, "Look, he's bleeding."

Nathan tiredly lifted his head. His eyes wandered from the girl who kneeled before him up to the boy who accompanied her.

"Can you do anything about it?" Larry (Boy #9) asked, wandering over next to Lauren. The girl reached into her bag and slowly drew out a small object. Larry watched as Lauren peeled back the protective covering of the band-aid, placing it over the wound. She took a deep breath, wiping away some sweat from her brow.

"And how long were you in nursing training again?" Larry asked, raising one eyebrow.

"That technical maneuver I just performed took me two years to master." Lauren replied.

"It's a good thing you were here." Larry said as they were walking away, "That looked way too complicated for me."

* * *

Jeff (Boy #22) glanced around Bruce's living room, an uncharacteristic smirk on his face. They were all around him in one place or another, laughing loudly or yelling for no particular reason. Jeff had decided to refrain from drinking, since it was not in his nature to lose control over himself. But he was having as much fun as the others despite his normal blood alcohol level. Slowly, Justin (Boy #18) wandered over.

"This beer really puts me in the talkative mood." Justin commented to Jeff, turning his head towards him, "So this one time-"

Jeff put up a hand to stop him. He reached behind him and pulled out his hand scythe. He slit both of his wrists and then sliced both of the jugulars in his neck. The boy convulsed and then collapsed to the floor, his blood running in all directions and staining the white rug.

Justin stared down at the body.

"So like I was saying…"

* * *

Current danger zones: none

Pending danger zones: none

(1) Contestant remaining

GAME OVER...again...


End file.
